


Misbehaving For Days

by secondstar



Series: Satisfaction (a BDSM 'verse) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Animal Sacrifice, BDSM, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Butt Plugs, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Cock Rings, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Derek In Heat, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Hair-pulling, Kink Negotiation, Knotting, M/M, Marathon Sex, Masochism, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Microbrewery, No Refractory Period, Nude Photos, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Photography, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sadism, Safe Sane and Consensual, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scratching, Sensation Play, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Swing, Sex Toys, Shibari, Somnophilia, Spanking, St. Andrew's Cross, Stalker Peter, Stalking, Subspace, Switch Stiles, Switching, Tattooed Stiles, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek, Xeno, alcohol consumption, maschalagnia, porn blogger Stiles, switch derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3266243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondstar/pseuds/secondstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding out that Beacon Hills was the home of the ONLY Werewolf Microbrewery changed Stiles and Scott's lives. Gone where the days that Scott had to be Stiles' DD, because finally he could drink. The icing on the cake was the fact that the owner of said bar just so happened to be none other than Derek Hale.</p><p>Stiles wanted nothing more than to push Derek against a mattress, or a table, or maybe a wall. Stiles wasn't picky. He just knows that he <i>wants</i> him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [terinay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/terinay/gifts).



> Beta'd by Lauren, Beth, and Becky. Looked over by Japhy in regards to kinkier things to come. 
> 
> The rating will go up to E! 
> 
> I'd been wanting to write another fic along the lines of Salty Sweet, only kinkier. This is that fic. I'll be making more notes than I normally do with fics because of the nature of this fic. 
> 
> This fic's setting is in a bar, and Stiles and Scott do drink frequently in this fic and are both adults. To me, they drink realistically. If you have problems with casual drinking, maybe this fic isn't for you. If you're not into reading BDSM this fic definitely won't be for you. Look out for yourselves! I plan on tagging accordingly, but if you find that I have forgotten to tag something, please let me know either here or on tumblr. I can be found there @attoliancrown.

Stiles had no idea where he was going. He had GoogleMaps on his phone set to walk, because hell if he was going to attempt to find this dive bar Scott wanted to meet. It was part of the new, hipstery portion of Beacon Hills where a group of entrepreneurs decided to revamp the run down warehouse district. There were a few restaurants, bars, even boutiques. One of the warehouses was turned into a marketplace, housing four or five different businesses within the building. Stiles liked the sushi place, even frequented it often with Scott and Kira, and the coffee joint within was delicious, but he hadn’t heard of the bar that Scott had suggested for their meetup. 

There wasn’t a lot of parking in the warehouse district, since it was the new place to be in town, so Stiles had to walk almost five blocks, passing his favorite sushi place on the way. The bar itself was set back, down an alley that reminded Stiles of his teenage years where they got into more than their fair share of mischief. Beacon Hills had changed, for the better, it seemed, in the years after Stiles graduated high school and college. He returned to it with open arms after spending years at Berkeley. 

The bar in question had no windows, a true dive, with an old worn wooden door. The sign itself was new, along with all the other signs in the area. Old buildings, gutted and repurposed. Stiles smiled to himself at the name “Blood Moon.” A fitting name, considering the reason Scott had been so eager to suggest it: it was owned by a werewolf. The insignia on the sign was that of a howling wolf, a cool motif albeit telling, if you knew werewolves existed. 

Stiles walked in, seeing exactly what he expected: dim lighting, dark wooden flooring, aged and scuffed with time, the walls covered not in wolf memorabilia, but different labels of microbrews. The bar itself only served local beers, so very hipster of it, and was rather cheap, or so Scott had said. 

He found Scott at a booth, his arm around Allison. They were already nursing their beers, smiles on their faces. Stiles lifted an eyebrow when he saw that Scott had a ‘Blood Moon’ beer in his hand, named after the bar itself. 

“I’m not that late, am I?” Stiles asked, looking down at his phone, swiping away the GPS app that let him know he’d arrived at his destination. 

“No,” Scott said. “We just finished with dinner early, so headed over. Go to the bar and get yours, man,” Scott said with ease. Stiles looked around, noticing that there wasn’t a waitress, that it was all bar tab. Stiles discarded his jacket, rolling up his shirtsleeves, revealing his tattoos. He had two sleeves, almost full, with only a few spots left on his upper arms that was hidden by his shirt. 

“You good for now?” Stiles asked before he walked over to the bar. Allison had most of her beer left, and Scott shook his in contemplation about his own. 

“I’m good for now,” Scott answered as Stiles shoved his hands into his front pockets. The bar itself was busy for being a niche, alley dive. There weren’t any seats left at the bar itself, and Stiles had to wait for the lone bartender to get to him. It gave him time to look over his choices. He knew which were laced in wolfsbane, the handles red instead of wooden like the rest of the taps. There were three wolfsbane laced brews, then seven regular types of beer for him to choose from. A list was written above the bar in uppercase, block lettering. Stiles stifled a laugh at the names of the wolfsbane laced beers, all revolving around the word ‘moon’. How very original. 

Stiles sobered, his hand dropping from his mouth as the bartender lifted a severe eyebrow at him, his arms crossed as he stood in front of Stiles, waiting. 

“I’ll get a Porter, if you have that on draft,” Stiles said, getting his wallet out. The bartender looked Stiles over, his eyes catching on his tattoos. 

“ID?” He asked Stiles, his voice not as low as Stiles suspected it would be with the body of a bouncer. Stiles rolled his eyes, used to showing his ID despite being in his late twenties. The bartender kept it longer than necessary, making Stiles fidget as he waited. Without a word, after returning the ID, the bartender grabbed a glass and poured Stiles his beer, slowly, tilting the glass just so. Stiles watched as he poured it, his muscles working in a way that made Stiles’ mouth water, his shirt tight across his bicep. 

Stiles handed him his debit card to start a tab, lifting the glass in thanks before he headed towards the booth his friends were waiting for him at. Stiles slid into the booth. 

“We should get pitchers with how long it takes to get a beer here,” Stiles groused as he took a sip, practically moaning at the taste. Oh, how he loved microbrews. “This was worth it, though.”

“Which did you get?” Scott asked. Stiles’ porter was dark, rich, almost tasting like chocolate. Stiles liked full-bodied beers that were almost like a meal, Porters, Stouts, and dark lagers whereas Scott liked his Pale ale’s and Pilsners. 

“I didn’t get the name,” Stiles realized, looking towards the bar. “I just asked for a Porter.” Scott made a face. By the looks of it, Allison had a Brown ale of some sort. She offered a taste to Stiles, and Stiles let her try his as well. 

Wolfsbane laced beers were a new thing in the world for Scott, having just found out that he could get drunk some odd months prior. Blood Moon was a newish bar as well, and it wasn’t as though he could outright market the bar to werewolves openly. Scott had found out from some werewolf symposium he’d gone to in San Francisco at a panel about werewolf run businesses. 

“How lucky are we that this place is in Beacon Hills?” Scott asked, his eyes wide. “I mean, I can feel the alcohol, this is amazing.” 

Three beers in and Scott was ecstatic. Four in and Stiles suggested Allison be the one driving home. Five in and Stiles couldn’t remember the last time Scott had ever been that drunk. Wolfsbane beer was apparently very potent. 

Stiles was laughing to himself as he helped Scott out to his and Allison’s car, which she had gone to get minutes prior. Scott was a stumbling mess, singing whatever song he felt like at the top of his lungs as Stiles scrambled to get him into the passenger seat. 

“ _I’m a bad a bad woman to keep_ ,” Scott sang horribly off key. Stiles didn’t even know what the song was, but he couldn’t stop laughing, with tears in his eyes as Scott tried to dance in his seat. 

“Do you need a ride home?” Allison asked him, holding back a laugh herself at Scott’s antics. Stiles waved his hand, trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. 

“No, no,” Stiles said. “My dad will come get me.” 

“You better not drive, Stiles,” Allison said. 

“I won’t,” Stiles assured her, shutting the door, waving them goodbye. As he reentered the bar, he texted his dad to see if he was busy. He was on duty, one of his few night duties left on the schedule. Beacon Hills wasn’t busy, on the crime end, on Tuesday nights, chances were he’d be able to swing by to pick Stiles up. He’d rather do that than Stiles get behind the wheel while intoxicated. 

The bar crowd had thinned considerably, considering the hour. Stiles was one of the only ones at the bar, nursing a water while eating pretzels, laughing every so often when he thought about how smashed Scott had gotten. 

“Tell your friend that pace is important,” the bartender said as he walked by, throwing a dish towel over his shirt. The shirt itself was black, with the bar’s insignia on it. Stiles tilted his head, mesmerized by it as his chest moved with each breath. The bartender tilted his own, snapping his fingers near Stiles’ face. 

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“Your friend,” the bartender said, slower. “Tell him that pace is important with _those brews_.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said, elongating the word as he winked at him. “I get it.” Stiles watched as he rolled his eyes at him dramatically, but a smirk spread across his mouth. 

“Are you closing out?” He asked, showing Stiles his card. Stiles nodded his head, leaning against the bar. He watched, shamelessly, as the bartender closed out his tab, his eyes mostly on the bartender’s ass. Stiles made sure to tip him generously, his eyes darting to the top of the receipt to check the name: Derek. Smiling to himself, Stiles signed his name at the bottom before pocketing his debit card. 

Stiles slipped his jacket back on, righting the collar as he walked towards the door, giving one last look to Derek before he walked out the door where his father’s patrol car sat waiting for him. 

-

Before the end of the week, Thursday to be exact, Stiles found himself in the warehouse district again, only this time at the marketplace, catching up with with a few high school friends at dinner. Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin had been an off again on again couple throughout both high school and college, but the evening was a cause of celebration as she showed off her engagement ring. Beside her Jackson sat, smug, with his arm around her. 

Stiles bent forward, with Scott next to him, with his hand in Lydia’s, looking it over as he whistled low. 

“That is quite a ring, Lydia,” Stiles said, lifting an eyebrow at Jackson, who was a partner at his father’s firm. Lydia preened, looking down at it with a grin as Allison hugged her again. Stiles was never fond of Jackson, even had a long lasting crush on Lydia throughout school that his freshman year cured him of, he realized he was happy for the two of them. 

The Marketplace was all open, with different businesses all sharing a seating area. They decided on pizza, all gourmet with odd toppings and special sauces, lounging in their seats as they waited for it to be brought out to them. Stiles played around on his phone, liking random pictures on Instagram. They ended up hanging out until the Marketplace started to close at nine. 

Instead of heading back to their cars, Scott got that look in his eye that Stiles knew all too well. 

“You want to go back to Blood Moon, don’t you?” Stiles said, not opposed to the idea. It wasn’t that late, and he was more of a night owl more than anything else. Allison groaned, looking at the time. 

“I have an early shift at the station tomorrow,” she said. “I can’t be DD again.” 

“I’ll take him home,” Stiles offered. “I’ll just have two.” Allison smiled gratefully, kissing Stiles on the cheek before giving Scott the real deal. Stiles averted his eyes, giving them a small sense of privacy considering they were out in public, standing on a sidewalk. It was eerily lit, which went with the whole refurbished warehouse district vibe, but it also meant it was fucking dark. 

They walked together, bumping shoulders as they walked down the alleyway, the glow of the Blood Moon sign casting a red tint on the ground around them. Inside, it was a lot busier than it had been on Tuesday night, leaving Scott and Stiles with no options for a table except a high boy that was close to the wall. Stiles let Scott stake their claim, staying at the table as Stiles headed for the bar. 

Stiles expected to see Derek, all muscular and face drawn in a slight frown. Instead, he was met with big eyes, long brown hair, and a low cut V-neck shirt with the familiar insignia on it, ripped just so. Stiles’ eyes were on hers, which showed her amusement. 

“What can I get you?” She asked, eyeing him. 

“I’ll get whatever Pale ale you have on red tap,” Stiles said, pointing at the wolfsbane laced beers. “And then, uh, I didn’t catch the name of it last time but I had this great Porter--”

Stiles stopped talking as she leaned forward, her nostrils flaring as she smelled him. If Stiles didn’t have a werewolf for a best friend, he’d think she was coming onto him by her posture, but he knew better. 

“You don’t want a red tap,” she said. Stiles scoffed, carding his fingers through his hair. 

“I do, actually, that’s why me and my _friend_ are here,” he said, leaning on the bar, getting in her personal space like she’d just done to him. It was a dangerous move, but he had to stand his ground. “So I’ll take that Pale ale, and a Porter.” Her eyes narrowed at him, but she went about pouring the two beers. When she handed them over, he gave her his card to start a tab. She took it without a word, keying it into the touch screen register. 

 

Stiles rolled his shoulders as he walked back to their table, Scott’s eyes wide, his eyebrows lifted as Stiles handed over the glass. 

“Wow,” Scott said. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I don’t get why she’d refuse me service--”

“Because if you drink this?” Scott said, pointing at his beer, “then you’ll end up in the hospital.” Stiles sipped his Porter, which wasn’t the same thing he’d had on Tuesday, in silence. “She was being careful.” 

“Well, she could have been more amiable,” Stiles mumbled. “I wonder if Derek’s working tonight.”

“Who’s Derek?” 

“The bartender from the other night? Looked like a bouncer--”

“Oh,” Scott said, a look of comprehension dawning across his face as he took a sip of his beer. “God, you know, I’m so glad this exists.” He looked down at the glass in awe. “When I was bit, I thought I’d never be able to get buzzed, you know?” 

“I know,” Stiles said with a sad smile. He lifted his glass, tilting it towards Scott in a salute. They clinked glasses, doing a mini toast. “To survival.” 

“To survival,” Scott said with a grin. “And to whoever figured out how to get me drunk.”

-

They started going to Blood Moon weekly, usually just the two of them, but sometimes Allison joined in or picked them up as DD. Stiles found that the bartender, Cora, was usually behind the bar and had a particular sense of humor. Stiles hadn’t seen Derek since the first night, more than a month prior, and he started to think that maybe something had happened to him. 

He and Scott were seated at the bar when Cora slid a Brown ale in front of Stiles in a smaller glass, a sample glass. He eyed it suspiciously before sniffing it. 

“I like richer beers,” he said with a pout. 

“Just try it,” Cora said, rolling her eyes. It reminded Stiles of Derek, actually, then suddenly it clicked. 

“Are you Derek’s sister?” Stiles asked. Cora lifted an eyebrow, then smirked. 

“Try the beer, Stiles,” she said, leaning on the bartop. Stiles blatantly looked at her cleavage, because that’s what she wanted him to do, then sipped the beer. It was good, one of the best Brown ale’s he’d ever had. He licked his lips, nodding his head as he twirled the glass around with his fingers. 

“So, Derek?” Stiles asked her. She crossed her arms, tilting her head. 

“How do you know Derek?” She asked, her brow furrowed. 

“He was our bartender the first night,” Scott supplied as Stiles finished his sample glass. Cora leaned on the bar, looking at the door that lead downstairs to where are the kegs were housed. 

“Ahh,” Cora said. “That must have been--yes.” Stiles and Scott looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t divulge anything else. Instead she waved her hand, then went about cleaning the bar top with a rag. Shortly afterward, Cora disappeared downstairs, leaving Stiles with a Stout to keep him busy. 

When she was gone, Scott leaned close to Stiles, whispering in his ear. 

“That was weird.”

“Very,” Stiles agreed. “So, definitely brother, right?”

“Right,” Scott said in agreement. “But--”

Cora emerged, pleased, with Derek in tow. He wasn’t wearing a Blood Moon shirt this time, just a plain white t-shirt, smudged with dirt, but fit him just as well as the Blood Moon one had. Stiles bit his lip, taking another sip of his Stout before Derek walked over. 

“Derek, this is Scott and Stiles,” Cora said, pointing to each of them. “Scott likes your Pale ale best, and Stiles here just tried the Brown, non red,” she indicated. 

“Yours?” Stiles asked. Derek looked like he was about to turn and go back downstairs, but Cora held him in place. 

“His,” Cora said. “Derek’s Blood Moon’s owner and microbrewer,” Cora said, her voice dripping with pride. 

“Whoa,” Scott said, standing up to shake Derek’s hand. “Your beers are amazing, man, I can’t thank you enough-- the formula, how did you figure it out?” Derek had a rag in his hand that he was rubbing against his palms, obviously trying to wipe his hands off as best he could before shaking Scott’s hand. Stiles stood on reflex, making the same movement. Derek had a firm handshake, his facial features not as severe as they had been the first night. 

“A lot of testing,” Derek admitted. Again, Stiles was struck by the lightness of his voice, nowhere near as deep as he expected it to be. It was almost soft, though cutting around the edges, if Stiles remembered correctly. “Lot’s of stomachaches.” 

“A few long nights,” Cora mumbled. Stiles and Scott both grinned. 

“Well, thank you,” Scott said, seriously. “I never thought I’d get to feel-- to escape.” Derek nodded his understanding, his eyes catching Stiles’. 

“I make everything in house, if you want to see?”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles said, clapping once as he and Scott followed Derek downstairs, leaving Cora upstairs to take care of the bar. The basement was bigger than Stiles imagined it would be, spanning past the perimeter of the upstairs bar completely. “Is this under the marketplace?” Stiles asked as they walked around. 

“Yeah, it’s why I decided on this location, it had the option to gut past Blood Moon upstairs. The foundation is still in tact, with these columns holding it up, but I knocked out a good bit of sheetrock down here so I could have the room for brewing.” 

Derek watched as Stiles and Scott walked around, admiring everything. 

“I make all the wolfsbane laced beers separately from the regular, of course,” Derek pointed out. “I concentrate on those, and have only just started selling non-laced.”

“Do you bottle as well?” Stiles asked. 

“I’m working on it,” Derek supplied. “To send out, I’m still local, still small. The wolfsbane loses potency with time, so I’m still working on how to stop that from happening.” 

“I’ll be your guinea pig, if you want,” Scott said, giddy at the prospect. 

“If you want, I have some you can try now?” Derek looked at Scott expectantly. Stiles felt a little left out, but didn’t say anything. He owed Scott a lot for all the drunken nights he dragged Stiles home, way too sober to deal with intoxicated Stiles who couldn’t deal with emotions at two in the morning after an evening of beer pong and keg stands. 

Stiles took out his phone, playing around on it while Scott and Derek discussed the bottling, the different shit Derek had to do with the hops and fermentation to get the taste good, as well as keep it potent for werewolves. 

Time got away from them as Derek let Scott sample some of his unreleased beers. Derek kept glancing at Stiles every so often, his eyes lingering. Stiles didn’t groan once out of boredom, which he considered a feat in and of itself. In the end, Scott walked out of the basement with a new best friend, and two six packs of various brews, all laced for his enjoyment. 

Stiles was surprised when Derek joined them on the way back up, and voided out their tab completely, handing Stiles back his debit card with a small smile. 

“It’s always good to find other peaceful packs,” Derek said, his eyes flashing red. Stiles inhaled sharply. He hadn’t realized Derek was an alpha. Suddenly the red motif of the Blood Moon made sense. Stiles laughed, the corner of his mouth lifting as he exhaled. “Hope to see you guys in here again.” 

“Oh, believe me, we’re your new regulars,” Scott said, holding up the two six packs. “You’re awesome.” 

“See you around,” Stiles said, waving at Derek, who locked eyes with him as he walked out. When he finally tore his eyes away, he let out a shuddering breath. Derek’s gaze had been heady, his eyes intense and bright. Stiles knew that look well, but he doubted that they wanted the same things. Only time would be able to tell. 

-

Scott didn’t bring up Derek until a few days later. They both had their day jobs, were doing the whole ‘adult’ thing, but they still got together to play video games over at Stiles’ place. He had a loft in Beacon Hills’ historic downtown, over an antique store that was outrageously priced. Stiles liked it because it had a deck that looked over the quaint, sorry excuse of a downtown that was really a four block road where the Sheriff’s Station, Town Hall, and other official old buildings were built, along with the lone Post Office in town. 

“So, Derek?” Scott asked in the middle of killing Stiles’ character. Stiles glared at him as he waited to spawn again. 

“What about him?” Stiles asked, knowing exactly where the conversation was going. He bit his lip, pointedly looking at the screen. 

“Dude, you looked at your phone like you didn’t care, but I _know_ you, alright? You want to bang him.” 

Stiles scoffed at him. He wasn’t far from the truth, only the next words out of Scott’s mouth were going to be embarrassing, for both of them, so Stiles needed to shut that shit down. 

“You should ask him--”

“Scotty,” Stiles said, finally looking at him. “You’re the best bro, okay? But I’m not going to discuss the reasons why I’m not hooking up with Derek.” 

“Is it because he’s a werewolf?” Scott asked with a pout, his lower lip sticking out. 

“I’m not-- no, actually, that has nothing to do with it.” 

“He’s into you, you know,” Scott pointed out. “Like, so--”

“I know,” Stiles said with a sigh, leaning back against the couch, their game abandoned. “I know he is, and that’s what’s hard about it.” 

“I don’t-- does this have to do with your kinky shit?” 

“My ‘kinky shit’, as you call it, is exactly the problem here. We’re completely incompatible.” Stiles didn’t even want to explain just how frustrated he’d been about it. “So I’m working on it.” 

“Incompatible how?” Scott asked, his brow furrowed. “Working on it how? All I see is a lot of sexual tension, alright? You keep like, having sex with each other with your eyes when I’m standing right next to you it’s weird as fuck okay?” 

“It’s called eye fucking, Scott.”

“Okay, well stop eye fucking with him and start _actually_ fucking him because you two reek of sex, separately. Save all the werewolves’ sense of smell whenever we’re in there alright, rock his socks off, get your rocks off, do some rocking-- whatever. Just do it.” 

If only it were that simple.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- please note the change in rating as well as the added tags. HEED TAGS. If you feel like I've forgotten a tag, please let me know. Again, I'm stressing that this is a BDSM, bondage, based fic so if you're not into that: don't read. 
> 
> \- I wanted to take a moment to talk about what's happened recently to one of my favorite sterek writers in fandom: Circe6. Earlier this week, Circe6/kitsunepaws deleted her fics on ao3, as well as her tumblr. Having spoken with her I am not only appalled at the SHEER GALL that this fandom has by berating and tearing writers and fanartists down... it needs to stop. If you don't like something: X OUT OF IT. If you feel the need to rip someone apart for something that they put time and energy into-- you should really reevaluate what you are doing in fandom. Fandom should be about support and sharing a common bond, not about belittling someone to the point of vindictive bullying so that they feel like the only escape is to delete. 
> 
> Chi is one of my favorite writers for sterek, her world building is amazing, and now those fics are gone. THIS IS A HOBBY, done as escapism. If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say it. Stop reading. STOP SENDING DEMEANING COMMENTS. This is not a job, me along with the other writers of this fandom DO NOT GET PAID FOR THIS. 
> 
> So far this year I've written over 30k, and right now all I'm asking myself is "why am I doing this?" because a friend of mine has now left. I won't tolerate bullying of any kind and it INFURIATES ME that this has happened. 
> 
> _if you don't like what you're reading, simply X OUT there is no reason to rip someone apart for something YOU don't like._
> 
> that being said, I appreciate all of you who have left me heart felt comments. The love I have for you is genuine. I hope that in going forward we promote POSITIVITY. Give kudos, leave comments, tell writers you appreciate them. Because all it takes is a few shitty comments to wipe away hundreds of lovely ones. We need to support each other, not knock each other down. 
> 
> Sorry for rambling, but I needed to get that out. I will not let this go. Chi was a gift to fandom, and now she's gone from it and she (along with her fics) will be sorely missed.

Or maybe it _was_ that simple. 

Before he and Scott met up at Blood Moon the next time, Stiles decided to just bite the bullet and see if Derek was interested in-- well, in Stiles, first and foremost. He wore his jeans that made his ass look fucking amazing, and a simple black V-neck. He also made sure to show up after Scott did, joining him at the bar. 

Cora had given them the schedule, per se, of when Derek was on bartending duty, which was only a few times a month because brewing took up most of his time. It was his bar, but Cora was the main bartender, along with Erica and Boyd, who were Derek’s betas. Boyd, it turned out, was a stand in bouncer, taking care of the door most of the time. 

When Derek saw Stiles approach, he didn’t break eye contact. Instead, Stiles got to watch as Derek’s eyes raked down his body, then back up to his face again. A smile tugged at the edge of Stiles’ mouth as he sat down, leaning over the bar, his hands splayed out on top. He liked that Derek found him attractive, that he wanted him, because Stiles wanted him, too.

“What can I get you?” Derek asked, his eyes lingering on Stiles’ lips before looking him straight in the eye. 

“A date,” Stiles said, grinning despite himself. Derek’s gaze dropped, as did his chin as he lowered his head, laughing silently for a moment, his teeth catching on his lower lip, nodding his head in an answer. 

“That can be arranged,” Derek supplied, leaning in. “But for the time being...?” 

“Surprise me,” Stiles said, confident. When Derek turned his back to pour him a drink of his choice, Stiles saw Scott out of the corner of his eye, his face showing how excited Stiles was on the inside. Scott looked like he was about to jump around the bar clapping his hands. Scott raised his hand for Stiles to high five, and Stiles thought about leaving him hanging, but couldn’t do it that his best friend. 

Stiles met Scott’s hand with a smack, his smile contagious. Derek ended up giving him a Stout and a napkin with his number on it, writing in the same blocky lettering as the blackboards with the beer menu. Stiles pocketed the napkin, his cheeks reddening. 

They didn’t stay long, having no more than a few drinks each so they could still drive. Scott was working on his tolerance, since laced beer was stronger than regular because of how it worked. Stiles lingered by the bar as Scott used the bathroom before they headed out. Derek was busy, but when he saw that Stiles was alone he made his way over, throwing a towel over his shoulder as he leaned against the bar top. 

For once, Stiles was at a loss for words. He actually looked down at his hands, unable to get the words out that he so desperately needed to say. 

“So, Saturday night work for you?” Derek asked, his head ducked so that he could look Stiles in the eye. Stiles’ breath held in his throat, because fuck if Derek wasn’t so damned _earnest_. It wasn’t going to work, Stiles wouldn’t be able to come to the bar with Scott any more because if he and Derek went on a date and it didn’t work out then Scott would be SOL for having a friend to drink with in the stupid fucking werewolf bar. 

“Yeah,” Stiles found himself saying, despite the fact that it was such a monumentally shit idea. “Seven, my place.” He definitely needed it to be at his place. 

Derek raised his eyebrows.

“Are we staying in?” Derek asked, leaning closer. Stiles found himself doing the same as he licked his lips, his own eyes on Derek’s as he nodded his head. 

“Yeah, definitely.” 

“Need me to bring anything?” Stiles’ mind reeled at the possibilities, but he shook his head. 

“Just yourself.” 

“Should I plan dinner before I come over?” Derek asked. They were impossibly close to each other, enough that Stiles could feel Derek breathing. All he had to do was close his eyes and lean forward, and they’d be kissing. Instead, Stiles stood up straighter, just in time to see Scott emerge from around the corner, ready to go. 

“I think that would be wise, or do you want me to cook for you?” Stiles asked as he wiggled his fingers. Scott made a veto motion behind him, which Stiles saw out of the corner of his eye. “Hey,” he said with a pout. “I can cook.” 

“You can cook mac and cheese,” Scott corrected. “Out of the box.” 

“I’m really good at it,” Stiles told Derek. “And he’s lying, I can make other stuff.” 

“I’d like that,” Derek said as he stood up, then looked down the bar, realizing how many people needed drinks. “Text me.” 

Stiles’ face reddened as he waved good night, following Scott out the door. 

-

Stiles was not a shitty cook. Sure, he spent the better part of his college years eating ramen and Kraft mac and cheese, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to make something nicer. He used to do it all the time for his dad when he was in high school, and made a meal every Sunday night now that he didn’t live at home. 

So fuck Scott. 

Stiles decided to grill out, because he had an awesome deck with a grill. He made grilled artichoke, which was really just putting an artichoke with butter on it wrapped in tin foil, and then he made kabobs with steak tips, onion, and tomato that he marinated for about four hours. 

He was pretty proud of himself, even had wine breathing before Derek arrived. It was a date, after all, and even though it wasn’t laced with anything, it was the fact of the matter: wine meant it was a date. 

Stiles almost did a shot, to pre-game, but he decided against it. He was nervous enough, there was no need for liquid courage. He had the balls to tell Derek what he wanted, alcohol or no alcohol. 

When Derek rang the bell, Stiles ran down the stairs to meet him. The entrance to his loft was on the first floor, right next to the antique store. Stiles opened the door to find Derek dressed up, well, not dressed in his normal ensemble of a Blood Moon shirt. 

“Hey,” Stiles said as he opened the door wider, so Derek could walk through the door.

“Hey,” Derek said, amused by Stiles’ tone. 

“Uh, come on up,” Stiles gestured, shutting the door then practically bouncing up the stairs. Derek took them two at a time, which was a lot hotter than it should have been. 

Stiles liked his open floor plan, where his bedroom was a corner of his living space, separated by nothing but an antique partition he found really cheap downstairs when he moved in. He left the door to the deck open, and made his way to check on the food while he let Derek have a look around. There was a couch, TV, a coffee table made out of an old travel trunk he found in his dad’s attic that may have belonged to one of his grandparents. He didn’t have much wall space, but what little he had, had bookshelves against it. 

“I hope you’re hungry,” Stiles said as he brought the food in, placing it on the highboy table he used as a kitchen table/island/place to put shit down near his kitchen. He’d set it already, proud of himself. 

“I am,” Derek said, his hands sliding into the back pockets of his jeans as he watched Stiles get everything ready. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“You can pour the wine?” Stiles suggested as he unwrapped the artichoke, steaming hot from it’s tin foil. Stiles burned himself, shaking his hand as he cussed under his breath. 

“Here,” Derek said, reaching for the artichoke. Stiles was about to object as he watched Derek take it in his hand, unwrapping it with ease and setting it down in the bowl. His fingers were red, slighttly burned, but it quickly disappeared, leaving his fingers without so much as a blister. 

“You really didn’t need to do that,” Stiles said, though the sentiment wasn’t lost on him. Derek shrugged, his cheeks flushed. Stiles absentmindedly sucked on his burned fingers as he poured himself a glass of wine, then Derek. When he put the bottle down, he realized Derek was staring at him. “Oh, sorry,” Stiles said, moving to wash his hands. 

“Do you need me to--”

“No,” Stiles said with a warm smile. “I actually-- pain doesn’t really bother me, just the sensation of burning--”

“Right,” Derek said, clearing his throat. “Good to know.” 

Stiles grinned. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

They ate in semi-silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Between sips of wine, ripping pieces of artichoke off, and making his way through three kabobs, Stiles was riveted by Derek’s every movement. They did the dishes together, bumping shoulders and laughing. Stiles could get used to this, to having Derek around, but-- 

But first they needed to talk. 

Stiles didn’t date, often. Berkeley was different, it was in a bigger city, a city that was easier to meet kinksters in, once Stiles realized that he wasn’t really into plain ole sex. Sure, it was alright, but he wanted _more_. Since returning to Beacon Hills, Stiles had gotten laid a total of three times, all of which had been a disaster. He was determined that his next foray into dating in Beacon Hills had to be something that he was actually interested in pursuing, and not just because he couldn’t find what he really wanted. 

Stiles cleared his throat, grabbing Derek’s attention, mid sip of wine. Stiles really liked Derek’s mouth, and it distracted him momentarily, how the red wine stained his lips. Stiles took a breath before speaking. 

“So, I wanted to--”

“I just needed to get it out--”

They both stopped talking, staring at the other for a second. 

“You go,” Stiles said, not wanting to broach the subject. They were seated on Stiles’ couch, relaxing, and their knees were basically touching once Derek shifted, putting his glass of wine down on the coffee table that was well within reach. 

Derek’s cheeks reddened, and Stiles knew it wasn’t from the wine, which probably hadn’t affected him at all. 

“I just wanted to get it out in the open that I-- I know who you are.” Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes widening at the implication behind those words. Stiles had a full body tingle happening, the involuntary one that could either feel like a chill or complete warmth engulfing his entire being. This one felt warm, his stomach clenching, his balls tightening ever so slightly as his face remained impassive. Stiles watched as Derek rubbed his hands together slowly leaning forward, his elbows on his knees as he avoided eye contact with Stiles. “I recognized you the first night you and Scott came in the bar.”

“The tattoos give it away?” Stiles asked with a smirk, his mouth not at all surprisingly dry, considering the circumstances. He took a big gulp of wine. He wasn’t sure yet what it meant that Derek knew, but he had to bet in his own favor since Derek _knew_ and he was sitting there in front of him, on a date. 

“Yeah,” Derek said, his voice breathy, like he was already worked up. Stiles’ shifted in his seat, his groin tight against his jeans. 

“Thanks for admitting that you know I’m a blogger,” Stiles said, his voice joking despite the fact that it just got lower, his mind reeling as he pictured Derek on his computer, going through Stiles’ various pictures, 95 percent of them had him bare assed and completely not safe for work. 

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” Derek confessed. 

“I never do,” Stiles said, laughing to break the tension in the room. He reached out, tentatively, touching Derek’s knee. Derek reacted immediately, pressing into the touch, leaning forward. Stiles’ chest heaved as their lips crashed together, mouths open in a filthy kiss that had Derek’s hands in Stiles’ hair, holding his jaw. Stiles was practically in Derek’s lap, rolling his hips against him as the kiss deepened. 

Stiles breathed, open-mouthed, moaning as Derek dragged his teeth down Stiles’ neck. Stiles opened his eyes, his hands on Derek’s wrists, stilling his movements as he held onto Stiles’ hips. Derek’s teeth on his neck reminded him that they had other things they needed to discuss. 

At the hesitence, Derek stilled, looking up at Stiles, his pupils blown wide as he panted. Stiles could feel Derek’s erection pressing against his ass as he sat straddling him. They both took a second, breathing hard, to gather themselves. Stiles leaned in, kissing him chastely, smiling into it as Derek grabbed his ass, squeezing. Stiles took Derek’s hands away, placing them on his thighs, where he allowed him to rub back and forth. 

The kiss deepened again with more fervor as Stiles let himself be consumed by it. The two of them rocked against each other until Stiles realized he had been slowing down for a reason. Derek distracted him with his hands. Stiles slid a hand up Derek’s chest, then wrapped it around his neck, grasping his hair and pulling him away. As the kiss ended, Stiles bit down on Derek’s lower lip, gauging his reaction. Derek moaned, his head tilting back as he let Stiles move him how he wanted. 

It was a good sign. 

“We have to talk,” Stiles said, his voice sounding nothing like it normally did. 

“Okay,” Derek said, his hands resting on Stiles’ thighs, where Stiles left them. Stiles grinned down at him. Derek was tense, though, probably thinking it was something bad. In reassurance, Stiles squeezed the back of Derek’s neck, kneading his fingers against it as his thumb brushed across Derek’s cheek, dragging through the coarse stubble. 

“So, you know about my blog.”

“Yes,” Derek rasped, his hands tightening on Stiles’ thighs. 

“Do you know-- Do you know that I’m into BDSM?” Stiles asked him, his grip on Derek’s hair loosening. 

“Yes,” Derek said, completely blissed out. Stiles hummed with contentment with that fact, leaning in, kissing Derek again. It was slow, less heated than the kissing that had just happened. Stiles kept it short, his fingers raking back through Derek’s hair, tugging on it and pulling him away when he was done. He tried thinking about his pictures that he’d posted, about how much he’d given away as he exposed Derek’s neck, looking Derek in the eye as he licked his lips. 

“Is this okay?” Stiles asked as Derek’s neck was completely exposed to him, his hand and the back of Derek’s head pressing into the couch. Derek visibly swallowed as he nodded his head, his eyes closing as Stiles leaned forward, licking a stripe up Derek’s neck, his tongue catching on his stubble, making his tongue tingle and burn. Stiles did it again, letting out small noises as he rubbed his nose against it, his own eyes closing as he sucked at Derek’s neck, raking his teeth over it. When Stiles pulled back, he watched Derek’s reddened skin fade back to clear. 

Stiles throbbed in his jeans as Derek’s grip on his thighs tightened even more, his hips rocking upwards against Stiles’ ass. He was panting again, thinking about Derek writhing beneath him. 

“God, the things I want to do to you,” Stiles said, his fingers brushing over Derek’s throat, down his chest, catching on the v of his shirt. “What would you let me do to you?” 

“What do you want to do to me?” Derek asked, his voice gone as he arched his back, his dick pressing against Stiles’ ass, straining. He could feel it pulsing beneath him. He shuddered as his fingers found their way back into Derek’s hair. 

“I want to see you come undone,” Stiles admitted. He was breathing heavily, as was Derek as they continued moving against each other, seeking friction. “I want to tie you up,” Stiles said as his hand slid further down Derek’s chest, over his pecs, his breath catching when he felt something beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Is that-- do you have your nipples pierced?” Stiles asked. 

It was Derek’s turn to smirk as Stiles rubbed his thumb back and forth across Derek’s nipple, feeling the barbell. Derek let out a loan moan, his eyes closing as Stiles pinched and held it between his fingers. When Derek’s eyes opened, they flashed red. 

“Do you like that?” Stiles asked. Derek grunted, holding Stiles’ hips and bucking upwards, practically growling, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a snarl. Stiles pinched him harder and Derek let out a choked moan, as if holding something back--

Stiles let go, running a delicate finger over Derek’s nipple as he leaned forward, breathing heavily against Derek’s neck, slowing their movements because Derek almost came. Derek turned his head towards Stiles, his lips finding Stiles’ easily as his hands snaked up Stiles’ back, moving across it, then back down, over Stiles’ ass, then back up again. Stiles tucked his hands up against Derek’s chest, allowing himself to be kissed, to be held. Derek had liked it, a lot, and Stiles was elated, but he was perfectly willing to go as slow as Derek wanted. 

“What else?” Derek asked after their kisses slowed back down again. Stiles rest his head against Derek’s shoulder, his lips numb, chin prickly with stubble burn as he thought about what he wanted to do. 

“To tie you up,” Stiles reiterated, licking his lips. Derek rest his head back against the couch, his hands roaming over Stiles’ body freely, not stilling at any one spot, though he did keep going back to Stiles’ ass. He’d have to remember that -- that Derek liked his ass. Stiles hummed, kissing Derek’s neck open-mouthed, lazily, before nuzzling against it. He would be worried about Derek’s legs falling asleep, sitting atop of him, but, werewolf. 

“To sit on your face,” Stiles said after a long while where he’d let Derek’s hands travel over him. Derek’s hands stilled on his ass, squeezing his cheeks. Stiles grunted as Derek kissed him, the intensity returning. Derek wanted to, wanted to rim him, possibly while being tied down. That thought alone had Stiles groping Derek, rubbing his palm against Derek’s erection, eliciting a moan from him. “I want to watch you jack off for me,” Stiles breathed. 

Derek rocked his hips against Stiles’ hand, letting out breathy moans as they kissed, his hand sliding up Stiles’ torso, slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt. Stiles let Derek take his shirt off, threw his head back as Derek mouthed at his chest, his nipples. He cupped Derek’s head with his hands as Derek’s teeth raked over a nipple, then bit down. Stiles sat down harder on top of him, his fingers digging into Derek’s scalp as he pushed him against his chest, letting out a shout. 

“Yes,” Stiles breathed out, shaking as Derek took his nipple into his mouth, teeth sharp against it. It hurt, and Stiles loved it. “More.” Derek rumbled, flipping Stiles over onto the couch as he hovered over him, his eyes flashing once more. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me.” Stiles’ touch was gentle on Derek’s cheek. “Could you-- you could shift, you could--” 

Derek drug a claw over Stiles’ nipple, making Stiles’ back arch at the rough touch. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, but it scrapped and left Stiles wanting more. He groaned, practically writhing beneath Derek as he mouthed as Stiles’ nipple, running his tongue over the scratch as his he did the same thing to the other. Stiles tugged haplessly at Derek’s shirt until it was on the floor, his legs hooking around Derek’s thighs. Stiles took both of Derek’s nipples between his fingers, pinching them, hard. Derek thrust his hips against Stiles’, the friction making the both of them moan as their mouths crashed together. 

Derek’s hands roamed over Stiles’ body, down his sides, dragging his claws all the while. Stiles whined as he grasped Derek’s biceps, shuddering at the feeling, at the control Derek had to only shift his claws and nothing else. 

Stiles had never been with an alpha before. He’d been with other werewolves, got off on having someone so powerful beneath his fingertips, coming at only his word. Even with Derek hovering over him, Stiles still felt that power. 

He wasn’t afraid as he grabbed Derek’s groin, palming at it his erection as Derek lifted his body away from Stiles’, his claws returning to nails as he breathed heavily, looking down at Stiles. 

“Want to move to the bed?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded wordlessly, but didn’t move. Stiles lifted his head, his eyes closing as he met Derek’s lips in a kiss, sitting up. Derek let Stiles up, moving where Stiles wished with nothing but a touch to guide him. Stiles stood up from the couch, letting out a shuddering breath as he controlled himself. 

As he walked towards the bed, he turned to look back at Derek, who remained seated on the couch, his hands rubbing up and down his thighs as he looked blankly towards the bed. 

“Derek, are you sure?” Stiles asked. Derek’s gaze snapped back to the present, his eyes falling on Stiles as he nodded, standing up, his muscles flexing with the movement. Stiles stifled a noise as he looked towards his made bed, deciding to turn down the covers. 

Derek’s body was warm against Stiles’ bare back as he wrapped his arms around him, nosing at his neck, his mouth teasing open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder as he pressed his erection against Stiles’ ass, fingers ghosting over Stiles’ scratched nipples, now even more sensitive. Stiles hissed as he turned his head, meeting Derek in a filthy kiss that was mostly tongue. Derek’s hand made a move to cup Stiles’ erection, but Stiles grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping him. 

“Not yet,” Stiles breathed, his eyes opening to find Derek’s own heavily lidded, nostrils flared. Stiles kissed him again, then led Derek over to the bed where he sat with ease. “Are you okay with being bound?” Stiles asked him. Derek nodded as he watched Stiles kneel before him. 

“Yes,” Derek said out loud when he realized Stiles was waiting for a verbal response from him. 

“You can break free any time, they aren’t laced, they’re silk.” 

“Of course,” Derek said as he watched as Stiles got out a bin from beneath his bed, bringing rope out. 

“Do you have a safeword?” Stiles asked him. 

“Red is fine,” Derek answered with a deep breath as he watched Stiles readying the ropes. Stiles gave him a smile, kissing him between tying the rope to the ends of the bed. “Any hard limits?” A shake of the head had Stiles reeling. He’d have to store that information away for later. 

“And you’re okay with rimming?” Stiles asked, looking at Derek as he walked around the bed. Derek nodded again, twisting his body so he could watch as Stiles got the last bit of rope ready. 

“Yes,” Derek answered, belatedly. “If you’re clean.” Stiles nodded his head, his cheeks reddening. He’d gotten ready, just in case. He’d been prepared. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I’m clean, I’m ready.” 

“Good,” Derek said as Stiles walked back over to him, cupping Derek’s face with his hands once more and kissing him. Derek had his hands on Stiles’ ass again, which made Stiles smile against the kiss. He could jump into Derek’s arms and he’d be able to hold him up, could probably fuck him that way. That thought had Stiles deepening the kiss more than he’d intended to. 

“One more question,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips. “You can say no--”

“What is it?” Derek asked, his breath hot against Stiles’ ear as he mouthed at it, along with the sensitive spot beneath Stiles’ earlobe. 

“What about-- what about rope as a cock ring?”Stiles asked hesitantly. He wanted to control Derek’s ability to come, to make him last longer, to tug. Derek made an indiscernible noise that Stiles couldn’t decipher, pretty sure it was a no, until Derek ground his hips against Stiles’ front, his grip on Stiles’ ass tightening painfully, his mouth latching onto Stiles’ neck, teeth scraping across Stiles’ skin.

There would be teeth marks. 

“You want me to-- do you want me to ask to come?” Derek asked. 

“I want to watch you come, after I’m done,” Stiles breathed, his chest heaving as Derek’s clawed hands drug over Stiles’ exposed skin. Stiles whimpered as they scratched, leaving red welts in their wake. 

“Okay,” Derek said. Stiles swallowed, nodding his head as his lips met Derek’s tenderly, his tongue darting into Derek’s mouth for only a moment before he pulled away. 

“Clothes off, then,” Stiles said as he stepped away. As Derek discarded his pants, Stiles looked down at his chest, where the scratches were already an angry red. He traced over them, pressing against them. His dick twitched in his jeans. 

When naked, Derek laid down on the bed, his hands over his head, ready to be tied. Stiles diligently walked around the bed, tying Derek’s hands, giving him room to maneuver, but not enough to do as he wished without breaking the rope. 

“Is that too tight?” Stiles asked him, his hands on Derek’s ankles, fingers caressing up his calves. 

“No,” Derek said as he tugged, moving his wrists around, his hands bound. “It’s just right.” Stiles smiled as he undid the button on his jeans, taking the time to admire the rest of Derek’s body, his erection that lay straining against his stomach, precome smeared across it. He was uncut, like any born werewolf, his cock fat and long. Stiles stepped out of his own jeans, jacking himself a few times after licking his hand to ease the friction. 

He only stroked a few times before grabbing another piece of rope, this one shorter, cut specifically for the task at hand. Stiles wrapped the rope around Derek’s balls and shaft not completely cutting off circulation, but enough to have the effect that he wanted, to make Derek squirm. 

When Stiles straddled Derek this time, he was facing away from him, one hand on the rope, giving an initial tug, making Derek groan, his legs widening, his toes curling, while his other hand found Derek’s head. 

“If you can’t say anything,” Stiles said. “If you want to tap out, bite me.” 

“Alright,” Derek said. “I’ll lift my leg first.”

“I’ll be watching,” Stiles said, his fingers running through Derek’s hair as he scooted back. With the first swipe of Derek’s tongue against him, Stiles sighed, his head dropping down so that his chin was against his chest. The next swipe of Derek’s tongue was longer, tasting him. Stiles closed his eyes as he scooted a little farther back, getting closer to Derek’s mouth. His hand moved from Derek’s head to his own ass cheek, moving it out of the way to give Derek more room. 

Stiles bit his lip, stifling a moan as Derek mouthed at him, his rough stubble rubbing against his cheeks, scraping against them. Stiles tugged at Derek’s cock, rocking his hips against Derek’s mouth as he stuck his tongue out, pressing inwards. Derek’s body strained beneath him as his mouth worked Stiles open, lapping at him, eating him out. Stiles worked up a slow rhythm, his mouth hanging open at the feeling. Derek’s cock remained hard and red, leaking as Stiles jerked the rope every so often. Derek rolled his hips, grunting every so often. 

After some time, Stiles leaned over, changing the angle. Derek licked at his balls, then over his entire hole, then delved back in as Stiles eyed Derek’s cock before him. A bead of precome sat on the head of Derek’s cock, threatening to slide down onto Derek’s hairy stomach. Stiles’ tongue darted out of his mouth as he bent down further, licking it up, sucking on the head of Derek’s cock for only a moment before pulling away. 

Derek jerked, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Stiles’ ass, biting him. Stiles’ hand dropped immediately from the rope, about to get off of him at the signal. 

“No,” Derek rasped. “No, I’m sorry, I just-- green, green, green,” Derek said desperately. “I didn’t mean to--”

“Okay,” Stiles said, twisting around, running his fingers through Derek’s hair reassuringly. “We don’t have to stop, but did you like that?” 

“Yes,” Derek said, moving his head so that Stiles’ palm was against his cheek. Derek raked his teeth against Stiles’ fingers, taking them into his mouth. Derek’s mouth was red, his lips swollen and wet. Stiles wanted to fuck his mouth, hold him down. Stiles knew that werewolves weren’t carriers, that he couldn’t get any STDs from him, but he had to make sure Derek was okay with blowing him without a condom, first. 

Stiles turned fully around, facing Derek as he straddled him, his cock jutting outward, mere inches from Derek’s mouth. Stiles gathered the rope back up in his one hand, holding it against Derek’s stomach with just enough taught-ness to make Derek groan against the strain. 

“I want to fuck your mouth,” Stiles said, his voice surprisingly steady. “Do I need to get a condom?” 

Derek looked up at him, his brow furrowed as he shook his head. 

“No,” Derek said. 

“Spit or swallow?” Stiles asked, because he knew he wasn’t going to last long once Derek’s mouth was on his cock. 

“Swallow,” Derek said without batting an eye. Stiles grinned, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he scooted forward, holding onto his cock with one hand, guiding it to Derek’s mouth. He rubbed the head of his cock against Derek’s lips, coating them with his precome before sliding it into the warm, wet heat of Derek’s mouth. Derek sucked, his eyes closing as he moaned at the taste of Stiles. 

Stiles’ body shuddered, warmth spreading through out him as he thrust his hips, pushing his cock shallowly into Derek’s mouth. The first time it hit the back of Derek’s throat, Stiles expected him to choke, but he didn’t. Stiles pulled out, to Derek’s dismay, his mouth hanging open, a trail of spit connecting his cock to Derek’s lips. 

“Can I--”

“Fuck my mouth,” Derek said, as he locked eyes with Stiles. “I want you to fuck my mouth, I want to feel it.” Stiles dropped the rope completely, taking Derek’s head in both of his hands as he moved his knees so that they slotted perfectly against Derek’s armpits. Derek mouthed at Stiles’ length before Stiles shoved it into Derek’s mouth, his hips moving, cock disappearing into Derek’s mouth. Stiles watched as he held still, cock down Derek’s throat. Derek’s eyes watered, tears falling down his cheeks. 

When Stiles pulled back, Derek gasped for air, but opened his mouth once more when he was ready. 

“Fuck,” Stiles gasped as he fucked into Derek’s mouth again and again, his hips pistoning until he was coming down Derek’s throat. He slowed his thrusts, letting out a choked sob as he held onto Derek’s chin, feeling himself pull out of Derek’s mouth. Derek, with his eyes closed, had his hands straining against the restraints as his chest heaved. Stiles turned his attention, as he rode his high, towards Derek’s cock which was still as hard as it had been before he dropped the rope. 

“Fuck,” Stiles whispered as he came to his senses, rubbing a hand against his eye. He was out of it, coming hard after so much foreplay. “I’m going to untie you now,” Stiles said, running his hands up and down Derek’s arms. “How do you feel?” 

“Good,” Derek said, his voice hoarse from Stiles’ using his mouth. Stiles licked his lips as he carefully undid the binding of the ropes, letting them fall. There were marks on Derek’s wrists from where he pulled at them, but they faded quickly as Stiles helped Derek move his arms, lifting them slowly. He took Derek’s hands in his own, linking their fingers as he pulled Derek’s hands up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, taking care. “Are your arms asleep?”

“No,” Derek said, breathing deeply as he watched Stiles kiss his fingers. 

“Do you want to touch me?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes,” Derek said, his breath catching in his throat so it sounded like a two syllable word. Stiles moved Derek’s hands, pulling them towards his chest. Derek’s fingers traced over the scratch marks, making Stiles hiss as he pressed against one that looked like it had broken the skin, but not by much. Derek sat up, mouthing at it, licking over the welt. Stiles licked his lips, his head tilting back as he reached behind him, grabbing ahold of the rope once more, tugging at Derek’s cock. Derek groaned, his teeth replacing his tongue against Stiles’ skin. Stiles smirked, tugging harder, making Derek’s hands grip him harder, hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Do you want to come?” Stiles asked in a whisper. 

“Yes,” Derek hissed, his hand sliding up Stiles’ chest, to his neck where he held onto the back of Stiles’ neck. “I want you to watch me jack off thinking about you.” 

 

Stiles breathed heavily, nodding his head, his spent cock twitching between his legs. He climbed off of Derek, perching himself at the edge of the bed as Derek unwrapped the rope from around his dick, taking himself in his hand, letting out a moan as soon as he wrapped his hand around his length in a downward stroke. With one hand he cupped his balls, the other he jacked off, slowly at first, picking up the pace as he stared at Stiles. 

In one swift motion, Derek moved down the bed, exposing his ass. His feet were still tied, but he managed to lift them enough that he could press a finger beneath his balls. He wet his own finger, then circled his ass, rubbing against it as he moaned, throwing his head back. Stiles’ breathing became shallow as he watched, his eyes wide as Derek jacked off for him. 

Derek came in waves, ropes of come covering his chest as his back arched, his eyes shut tight. He kept jacking off through his orgasm, even afterward, with each stroke becoming more languid than the last until he completely rode out his climax. 

When he was done, Stiles crawled forward, brushing his lips across Derek’s forehead before moving to untie his feet, his hands massaging Derek’s ankles, his calves, then his thighs. Derek pulled Stiles towards him, his lips hovering close to Stiles’. 

“Can I?” Derek asked. They hadn’t kissed since Derek’ rimmed him, it was up to Stiles. Stiles nodded his head, giving Derek permission. Their mouths came together in a needy kiss as Derek pulled Stiles down on top of him. Stiles threw his leg over Derek’s thighs, snuggling up next to him. Touch was important after such an intense scene, and Stiles didn’t have any intention of letting Derek go. Their kisses slowed considerably as the minutes went by. 

Eventually, Stiles rolled over, reaching for a wet wipe he knew to be in his nightstand. He cleaned Derek’s chest up, not wanting his come to get dry or sticky. As Stiles did so, Derek’s fingers ghosted down Stiles’ back, tracing invisible lines across it. 

“That was-- intense,” Derek said, his voice barely audible. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, looking Derek over. 

“Are you okay? Do you want water?” Stiles asked him. 

“I could use some,” Derek said. “If you come right back.”

“You’ll be able to see me,” Stiles assured him as he got off the bed. The kitchen was in view of the bed, which Stiles liked about having a loft. He was back within moments, handing Derek a glass of water. He’d gotten one for himself as well, drinking it down as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

Derek reached his hand out tentatively, his palm facing upwards as it lay on the bed between them. Without hesitating, Stiles took Derek’s hand in his own. Immediately, Derek relaxed. 

“So, that was some first date,” Derek said, his voice hushed as he squeezed Stiles’ hand. Stiles laughed, covering his face with his free hand. He hadn’t meant to go that fast, he’d gotten carried away. “Hey, stop.” 

Stiles opened his eyes to find Derek sitting up, his face showing concern. 

“I didn’t tap out, you were perfect,” Derek said as his hand slid down Stiles’ arm reassuringly. “That’s exactly what I wanted, and what I needed.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, giving Derek a small smile. “Me too.” 

Their next kiss was light and chaste. When Stiles ended it, he licked his lips, clearing his throat as he looked away from Derek. He was overwhelmed, not by just the scene, but by Derek himself. The way they went from heated pleasurable pain into such tenderness was sending his mind reeling. 

“Do you want-- it’s not that late, we could watch a movie?” 

“What do you have in mind?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Anything you want,” Stiles breathed out. He wasn’t ready for Derek to leave yet, and by the way that Derek’s thumb was caressing the back of Stiles’ hand, he had a feeling that Derek didn’t want to leave quite yet, either. 

“Okay,” Derek said, getting off the bed and grabbing his jeans. It was then that Stiles realized that he hadn’t been wearing any underwear. Stiles let out a small noise as he followed suit. Their shirts were still by the couch, and Stiles forewent his entirely, following Derek onto the couch. Derek sat down first, with Stiles climbing practically on top of him, grabbing the remote and handing it to Derek. 

“You pick,” Stiles said, resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder as if they’d done this a million times, that they were used to each other’s space, their touch. He felt like it, despite barely knowing him. He watched idly as Derek picked _Parks and Recreation_ on netflix, hopping to the fourth season. Stiles smiled as he pressed his lips against Derek’s shoulder, his hand resting on Derek’s stomach. 

Within minutes, Derek’s fingers were linked with Stiles’, his head resting against Stiles’, his eyes closed. 

“I have a proposition for you,” Stiles said, sleepy and ready to move back to his bed. 

“Hmm?” Derek asked, obviously halfway asleep himself after an episode and a half. 

“Spend the night?” Stiles asked. He’d never asked that before, even with past relationships, one night stands -- none of them. He was weird about his bed and his pillows, but he couldn’t think about anything else besides scooting up next to Derek in bed. 

“Can I be the big spoon?” Derek inquired, opening one eye. Stiles hummed, pretending to think, not telling Derek that he liked being held. 

“I suppose you can,” Stiles mused. Derek stretched out, his muscles moving distractingly as he made to get up. He followed Stiles to the bed, the two of them falling into it. Instead of facing away from him, Stiles curled into him, tucking his head against Derek’s shoulder. 

It felt like no time passed by at all when Derek shifted, waking Stiles up. Stiles squinted, frowning as he watched Derek untangle himself from Stiles. 

“I have to go,” Derek whispered. It was light out, and his hair was a mess, sticking up every which way. Stiles wanted to pull him back into his bed and fuck him senseless. 

He buried his face into his pillow instead and groaned. 

“What time is it?” Stiles asked as he sat up. He’d slept in his jeans, which was unfortunate. He watched as Derek put his shoes on, wondering when the last time he’d slept that hard was. Usually he tossed and turned all night, couldn’t sleep with anyone else in the bed with him. 

 

“Seven,” Derek said. Stiles groaned, falling back onto his bed, curling up and pulling the pillow that Derek had been using close. “I have to go to work.” 

“Harumph,” Stiles muttered, watching Derek’s every movement over the edge of the pillow. 

“Do you-- I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight, to my place.”

“Your place?” Stiles asked, sitting up. “Are you sure?” 

Stiles knew how werewolves were about their place, about the smells and the everything. Derek was an alpha, and his place was probably where pack meetings happened, and Stiles wasn’t pack, he wasn’t--

“Yes,” Derek said as he pulled on his shirt. “I’m sure.” 

“Then yeah,” Stiles said, holding his breath as Derek walked over towards the bed. Stiles had morning breath, and he knew his morning breath was rank as hell, and Derek had a super sense of smell. 

Derek cupped Stiles’ face in his hands, then kissed his forehead knowingly. 

“How about I pick you up?” 

“Sure,” Stiles said. “We can do that.” 

“I’ll be done around eight.” 

“I’ll see you then.” 

Stiles sat on his bed, thinking about how _that_ had escalated quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note added tags. If you believe I've forgotten one, please let me know! 
> 
> I should have updated last night but I forgot, sorry about that! This should be updated every five days :) 
> 
> thank you so much for reading and commenting! (and subscribing, and leaving kudos-- thank you!)

Stiles spent his Sunday like he normally did, doing laundry and watching Netflix. He spent the afternoon on his computer uploading some photos he’d taken earlier in the week. He usually set up a queue, making sure his photos posted at the times he wanted them to. He answered asks, then spent a while reblogging aimlessly, trying to keep his attention off the clock. 

Eventually, he hopped in the shower to get ready to be picked up. He watched the water cascading down his torso, mesmerized by the teeth marks he had imprinted on his skin, the fingertip shaped bruises on his hips, and the scratch marks. 

He’d had Derek tied up for most of the night, and somehow he was completely covered in marks. Stiles’ breathing became labored, his cock jerking between his legs as he became harder with each passing second thinking about Derek’s hands on him, the vision of his claws scratching across Stiles’ abdomen. 

Stiles wrapped his hand around his cock, letting out a stilted moan as he thought back to Derek’s mouth on him. Stiles closed his eyes as he imagined Derek on his knees, mouthing at his ass, eating him out again. He slipped two fingers between his ass cheeks, rubbing against his hole, teasing himself. 

It didn’t take long for him to come, spilling down the drain, his entire body shuddering. When he got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, he checked himself out in the mirror, admiring the marks again. They stood out more under the bright lights of the bathroom, against the stark coloring of his skin, along with moles that dotted his chest and face. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before moving to get ready. 

He had a text from Scott waiting for him, asking if he wanted to get dinner. Stiles shota text back telling him that he had plans to see Derek before tossing it on his bed to get dressed. 

Not even ten seconds later, he heard his text tone, letting him know that Scott had texted him back. 

_Date two already?_ Scott asked. Stiles smirked. 

_Hell yeah_ , Stiles replied, then went to brush his teeth. He had about forty minutes left before Derek was due to get off, so Stiles pulled up one of his projects he’d been working on. He wasn’t _just_ a porn blogger, which was his side job. For his actual job, the one that brought him money, not that being a porn blogger didn’t, but that was a different thing entirely, was a freelance graphic artist. He had Photoshop open at all times, with anything from three to five projects going on at any given time. 

Stiles was working on a brochure for a small company in town, a flyer for a local theatre’s production of _The Wizard of Oz_ , and a pitch for a new emblem for a business. Stiles had a few things in mind, but he had them mostly in his sketchbook that he had to transfer over into Photoshop. Stiles drew on a tablet, when he could find his pen. He had two of them, because he was always losing them. 

The forty minutes flew by, because it felt like no time at all to Stiles before his phone buzzed with a text letting Stiles know that Derek was downstairs waiting for him. 

Derek’s car, a Camaro, sat idling by the side of the road as he waited for Stiles. Stiles grinned to himself as he opened the door, stepping into the car with one swift movement, his body doing that shivering warmth thing that had him blushing at the way that Derek looked at him. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he thought about the night before, about Derek beneath him. He could already feel the tension between them. 

“Hey,” Derek said back, looking Stiles up and down like he wanted to devour him. 

“So, where to?” 

“Food?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Mmm, lead the way,” Stiles said as he fastened his seatbelt. They headed towards the warehouse district, which didn’t surprise Stiles in the slightest. At least Derek drove by the marketplace. Stiles didn’t know what he’d do if he had to eat sushi or pizza again. 

He was surprised when Derek pulled up to a small cafe that served comfort food, lots of soups and really, really good gourmet grilled cheeses. Stiles opened the door for Derek, who gave him a warm smile as he passed by, patting his pockets to double check that he had his keys and his wallet before he walked past Stiles. 

“Table for two, a booth please,” Derek said to the waitress. Derek sat down so that he faced the door, which Stiles noticed Scott did as well, something about not having their back exposed. Stiles looked over his options, since he knew without a doubt that he wanted a bowl of their tomato bisque soup, but they had a lot of grilled cheeses to choose from. 

“I was wondering,” Derek said as he himself looked over the menu, “ if you wanted to split the beer cheese fondue with me?” 

“Fondue?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows lifting. “Beer and cheese and fondu, you had me at ‘I was wondering’,” he laughed. The fondue was pricey, but he supposed if they split it, that would be okay. He had a steady stream of projects lined up, so he could definitely splurge for one night and it wouldn’t fuck up his budget too much. 

“Great,” Derek said with a grin. “I haven’t had it yet, but I’ve been wanting to try it.”

Instead of the grilled cheese, Stiles settled for a cup of the soup. The fondue came with courses, breads and meats to dip into the cheese. It was more than enough. Stiles sat, afterwards, sort of slumped over in his seat, patting his belly happily. When the waitress brought the receipt, Derek slipped her his card with a grin. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, tapping Derek’s foot with his own under the table. Derek gave him a look. lifting his eyebrow. “We should split it,” he suggested. 

“It’s on me.”

“Says who,” Stiles mustered, his foot not leaving Derek’s, kicking his shin a little. Derek gave Stiles another look. “What? We should split the bill, it’s only fair.” 

“I asked you on a date, I’m paying.” 

Stiles wanted to continue pushing for the split, but decided it wasn’t worth it. 

“Well,” Stiles said as they walked back out to the car. “I’ll just have to make it up to you.” Derek walked casually beside him, which so happened to be one of the hottest walks Stiles had ever seen. He tried not to think about Derek naked, but it wasn’t working. 

Derek’s smirk let Stiles knew that his werewolf senses picked up how aroused Stiles was. 

“Make it up to me how?” Derek asked as he opened Stiles’ door for him. Stiles licked his lips as he leaned close to Derek’s, speaking against them. 

“I’m sure you’ll let me know,” Stiles said before slipping into the car, leaving Derek hanging. When Derek shut the door a little too forcefully, it wasn’t so much that he was mad, but that he probably had blue balls. 

Derek revved the engine before taking off towards his house. Stiles sat with his hands on his thighs, legs spread comfortably as Derek shifted gears, his gaze on the road ahead of them. 

“Anything I should know before going into your house?” Stiles asked, thinking back on the fact that Derek was an alpha. “Should I not touch anything?” Derek laughed easily, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he shook his head. 

“You can touch whatever you want,” Derek offered. Stiles smirked, his hand sliding from his own thigh to Derek’s. Derek looked down, his eyebrow lifting at Stiles’ not so smooth segue, but said nothing. 

Stiles couldn’t believe it had only been that morning that he woke up with Derek in his bed. He watched the trees as they drove out of town towards the preserve. It made sense that Derek would live on the outskirts of town, and when they pulled up to a quaint ranch-style house that was surrounded by trees, Stiles couldn’t help but smile at it. It had a detached garage that Derek didn’t pull into, leaving Stiles curious as they walked around to the back of the house, which had a good size deck with a table and chairs, cushions on them that looked well used. 

Derek caught Stiles looking as he got his keys out to open the back door. 

“I have the pack over some nights, we tend to like being outside,” he said, indicating with his head towards a metal firepit that was a ways back into the backyard that Stiles could barely see in the darkness. The flood lights were on, at least, but there were no houses around them. Derek’s house was isolated, and Stiles realized that he had no way of leaving except by Derek’s car. 

“Full moons?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded his head as he lead Stiles inside. The back door lead into an open layout kitchen, twice the size of Stiles’ with stainless steal appliances and a sleek, modern look. “Whoa,” Stiles said, raising his eyebrows at Derek. 

“I like to cook,” Derek said with a shrug. “Made sense to have the kitchen I wanted, so I gutted the old one. There was a dining area, but I got rid of it since I live alone,” he rambled, pointing at a corner of the kitchen. “I use the breakfast nook,” he said, motioning towards said space where a table for two was set. 

“I’m interested in seeing the rest,” Stiles said easily. Derek hung his keys up on a hook by the door, then placed his wallet atop a small shelf meticulously. 

“Sure,” Derek said, his hand sliding across Stiles’ back, then down his arm. Stiles linked their fingers together, the touch making him smile. There was a sunroom that faced the backyard, an obvious addition to the house, full of plants and a comfortable looking couch. The room itself looked lived in, with a small pile of books on a small table with a forgotten coffee mug on it. 

There were hard wood floors throughout the house, with the spare bedroom turned into an office with a desk and bookshelves, paperwork in boxes lining the walls. 

“This room is a mess,” Derek said, but didn’t apologize for it. The space was his, and as an alpha allowing Stiles in was a big step, considering it was only their second date. The living room was painted with dark tones, the leather couches looked as though you’d sink into them easily. “Movie nights with the pack,” Derek said with a hint of a smile. 

Stiles knew about those, he and Scott had them, too, with Scott’s small pack. Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand as he lead him down the hallway, past the bathroom that had also been redone, and into the master bedroom, which was by far the simplest room in the house with dark oak dresser, armoire, and bed that took up most of the room. It almost felt cramped, with a king size bed, but one look at the bed and Stiles knew it would be the most comfortable thing he’d ever lay on. There was a painting on the wall, and family photos, pack photos, on the dresser. 

Stiles loved it. 

“Thanks for the tour,” Stiles said, his gaze going from the room back to Derek. Derek’s lips met his in a chaste kiss as Derek pulled Stiles’ hand around him. Stiles moved without restraint, his hand grasping at Derek’s shirt as the kiss deepened. 

“What do you want to do?” Derek asked, his hands sliding up and down Stiles’ arms as he brushed his nose across Stiles’ cheek, his eyes closed. Stiles bit his lip, thinking. 

“I believe that it’s your turn to share some ideas,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Since I got to have you beneath me last night.” Derek let out a low growl, playful more than anything as they kissed again. 

“We could continue along that vein,” Derek suggested. “I like the thought of being under you.” Stiles flushed as he licked his lips, breathing becoming stilted at the thought of fucking Derek. Stiles raked his fingers through Derek’s hair, tugging as he grabbed Derek’s ass with his other hand. 

“You know,” Stiles said, looking between Derek’s open mouth and his eyes, half lidded with lust, “I’m more than okay with that.” He tightened his grip on Derek’s hair, and Derek let out a groan as his eyes closed. 

The light in Derek’s room was dim, and as Derek opened his eyes, Stiles could see a hint of red reflected there. It made him hard. 

“I don’t have rope,” Derek said, sounding like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Stiles kissed him, his hand sliding down to Derek’s neck, holding onto him. 

“We don’t need rope to have a good time,” Stiles said, nipping at Derek’s bottom lip. “Do you have gloves? Lube?” 

Derek nodded his head, heading back out into the hallway, towards the bathroom. He returned with a box of black latex gloves and a container of lube, twist off, perfect for what Stiles had in mind, along with a towel. Derek handed them to Stiles, who then tossed them onto the bed, then lead Derek towards it, tugging at his shirt. Derek lifted it, discarding on the floor as he climbed on the bed, following Stiles who was already on it, resting on his knees. Derek crawled forward, his hand roaming up Stiles’ body as they laid down, kissing, their legs tangling. Stiles slipped a hand down, ghosting over Derek’s stomach down to his groin, outlining Derek’s erection with his fingers as they kissed. He rubbed against the fabric, palming it as Derek began moving his hips, seeking friction. 

As Stiles began unbuttoning Derek’s jeans, Derek stilled Stiles’ movements with a hand on his wrist. Stiles let go immediately.

“Green?” Stiles asked, his voice breathy. Derek nodded his head, then licked his lips as he rest his head back against the pillow. 

“If-- can you be naked, too, whenever-- whatever we do?”

Stiles knit his brow together, then nodded his head. He hadn’t realized he’d been denying Derek, before. 

“Of course,” Stiles said. 

“I want to watch you.” 

“Done,” Stiles laughed, kissing Derek before he knelt, taking off his own shirt as Derek watched him, his hands on Stiles’ thighs. Stiles unbuttoned his own jeans, as Derek did the same to his own. Once more, Derek wasn’t wearing underwear, his cock half hard, head peeking out from the foreskin. Stiles, though, still had on his boxer briefs, a clear outline of his growing erection apparent. He hooked his fingers over the cotton fabric, sliding it down his thighs, exposing himself and letting his cock fall. Derek leaned forward, sweeping his tongue over the head of Stiles’ cock, sucking on it greedily, as if he _needed_ Stiles’ cock in his mouth. Stiles had his hands on Derek’s shoulders as he moaned, pressing Derek back against the bed, leaving his cock wet in it’s wake. 

“I like coming second,” Stiles said. “I like foreplay,” Stiles said, because the look on Derek’s face was that of confusion, like he’d been _denied_. “If you’re up for it, after, I’ll let you suck my dick until you’re satisfied,” Stiles promised. 

Derek nodded his head as he reached for Stiles’ balls, rolling them gently, making Stiles’ breath catch as he reached for the box of gloves. “Have you ever had your prostate milked?” Stiles asked seriously. Derek shook his head as he watched Stiles put the gloves on. “I need you to answer me out loud,” Stiles said gently. 

“No,” Derek said, his voice raspy already. “I haven’t.” 

“I know you’ve fingered yourself,” Stiles said, referring to the night before when he watched Derek do it to himself. “Ever had anyone else do it?”

“Yes,” Derek said as Stiles laid out the towel, patting it, indicating for Derek to move down the bed closer to the edge, his feet hanging off the edge. 

“I promise you’ll enjoy this,” Stiles said. “But if you don’t, all you have to do is tap out. I’ll pull back immediately.” 

“Okay,” Derek said. 

“How do you feel about edging?” Stiles asked. 

“Yeah,” Derek said, his pupils already blown, voice low, like he was already half gone. “I like that.” Stiles grinned, licking his lips as he opened the lube, twisting off the top of it and dipping his fingers into the lube, rubbing it between two fingers to warm it slightly. 

“Can you put your heels on the edge of the bed?” Stiles asked, Derek did just that, opening his legs wide, exposing himself, his balls hanging low between his legs, cock half hard against his stomach. Stiles kissed the inside of Derek’s thigh as he tentatively brushed a finger across Derek’s hole, smearing lube. He rubbed his finger around the opening, then instead of pressing inwards, he took Derek’s balls in his hand, tugging on them, rolling them between his fingers. Derek moaned, a hand on his chest running across it, catching on a pierced nipple. 

“You can touch yourself anywhere but your cock,” Stiles instructed, watching Derek’s reaction as he pressed his finger inwards. Derek’s mouth was open as he pinched his own nipple, making Stiles’ dick throb between his legs. Derek’s eyes were open and watching him as Stiles began fucking Derek with a finger. Before he got far, he dipped his fingers back in the lube. This time, he pressed two inwards, smoothing them around, twisting his wrist as he wrapped his other hand around Derek’s cock, jacking him off, keeping to short strokes, nearer to his head rather than the bottom of the shaft. Derek hardened in his hand as Stiles fucked him with his fingers, crooking his fingers, hitting his prostate. 

Derek shuddered, his chest heaving as Stiles kept rubbing against it. Derek groaned, his back arching as Stiles’ pace quickened on his cock. Without warning, Stiles pulled away. Derek’s eyes were red, which had Stiles breathing heavily. 

“I almost came,” Derek said, eventually, as Stiles slipped a finger back in, crooking it. Derek’s cock twitched in Stiles’ hand. 

“I know,” Stiles said, his hand moving, stroking Derek. “You can shift, if you want,” Stiles said, looking from his hands up to Derek, hoping. Derek shuddered again. “Let go for me, give in.” 

For a moment, Stiles didn’t think Derek would. He added a second finger again, working back up to the pace he’d been at before, pressing his fingers against Derek’s prostate, rubbing against it relentlessly. When he looked back up at Derek, he almost came. Derek was beautiful, his eyes red, claws and fangs out, his face shifted as he breathed heavily, his cock straining beneath Stiles’ hand. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said, trying to keep control of himself. “Derek,” he said. He pressed in a third finger, groaning at how tight he was. Derek shouted as he came, spilling across his own chest and stomach. Stiles kept stroking him through the climax, milking him for everything he had. 

“Enough,” Derek said, his voice broken. “I can’t--”

Stiles pulled his fingers out of him, fondling Derek’s balls as his cock softened in his hand. Derek squirmed beneath him, no longer shifted, his eyes shut tight. Stiles slowed to a stop, grabbing the towel to wipe Derek up with before Derek stopped him. 

“Leave it,” Derek said as he sat up. Stiles nodded his head as he kissed Derek, taking the gloves off so that they were inside out, lube tucked inside. With the strength only a werewolf could possess, Derek flipped Stiles down onto the bed, hovering over him, pinning him against the bed. “I want to scent you,” Derek said, his voice rough. “Can I do that?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, pretty sure that he wouldn’t last long, especially if Derek shifted. As if he read Stiles’ mind, he could feel Derek’s claws raking up his side, could see Derek’s face, changed and yet-- 

The feel of Derek’s shifted stubble across his neck made Stiles whimper, his hands still pinned above his head. Stiles looked down to watch Derek smear his come across Stiles’ stomach, cooling to the touch. Stiles shook beneath him. Derek rubbed his face against Stiles’ neck, leaving bruising kisses across his collarbone and chest, sharp teeth catching on his nipple. Stiles squirmed as Derek ignored his cock, instead, burying his face against Stiles’ armpit, licking and mouthing at it, rubbing his face there, scenting him. 

“Fuck-- fuck me,” Stiles moaned as Derek mouthed his way down Stiles’ stomach, licking up the mess he’d made with his own come. Instead of taking Stiles into his mouth, Derek buried his face against Stiles’ groin, pointedly avoiding his cock. When Stiles felt blunt teeth against the flesh of his thigh, he shouted, his toes curling at the feeling. 

Derek had complete control of his shift, and it had Stiles coming undone beneath him. When Derek finally licked at the head of Stiles’ cock, he whined at the touch. Stiles looked down to watch Derek, his hands on Stiles’ thighs, blowing him sloppily. Stiles moaned as his cock hit the back of Derek’s throat, then pull back, letting Stiles’ cock fall against his stomach, slick with spit and precome. Derek breathed him in at the base of his cock, then took his balls into his mouth, his clawed hands scratching across Stiles’ stomach, making his cock jump. 

When Derek took Stiles into his mouth again, he was close to coming. Stiles jerked, spilling down Derek’s mouth once more, his back arching as he grabbed at Derek’s hair, pulling on it harshly. Derek kept his mouth on him through Stiles’ climax, until he was too sensitive, even past that point. Stiles whined, pulling Derek away from him by his hair, then tugging him back up the bed. They kissed heatedly, Stiles wrapping his legs around Derek, tasting himself on Derek’s lips. 

Once they slowed down, their kisses becoming lazier and lazier until they were left holding each other, drifting off, Stiles decided to get up, clearing his throat as he got out of the bed, running his fingers through his hair while he looked for his boxer briefs. Derek watched him from the bed, unmoving. 

“Do you think it’s wise to spend two nights together?” Stiles asked. “In a row?” 

“Yes,” Derek said easily, his hair ruffled, mouth red. Stiles’ chest constricted, because it was truly a sight to behold. 

“Do you do this a lot?” Stiles asked. “Let people--”

“In my bed? No,” Derek said as he sat up. “I thought you wanted this.” 

“Oh, I do,” Stiles said, looking from the door back to Derek. “And that kind of scares me.” 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Derek asked. “Because I can.” Stiles crawled back into the bed, letting Derek drape an arm over him. “Was the scenting too much?”

“No to both,” Stiles said. “Though if Scott doesn’t let me in his house that might be an issue,” Stiles joked. “But... I liked it.” 

“Good,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ forehead. “So did I.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> head added tags! 
> 
> this fic keeps getting longer and longer! I hope you guys enjoy the added plot to the sex ;)
> 
> ps- I made a porn side blog for tumblr that is "Stiles'" in this fic. If you're interested it can be found [here](http://misbehave-dly.tumblr.com)!

Monday meant it was back to the real world. Stiles was dropped of at his loft at roughly the ass crack of dawn, with fresh coffee in hand from the only drive-through coffee place in town. He drank it, sitting on his couch, staring at the wall. 

Derek was a really, really good lay. Stiles didn’t remember the last time that he was able to let go, to not hold back what he really wanted. In a daze, Stiles thought about the past two nights. He couldn’t help but wonder when their next date would be, if he should text Derek or not. 

He decided against it, and showered instead. His torso was littered with scratch marks, still an angry pink, along with bruised fingerprint marks, and a few hickeys. Before they faded, Stiles wanted to photograph them. 

Determined, he got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist as he made his way out of the bathroom, hair still dripping wet, as he got out his SLR and tripod. It was a hobby of his, and it had him quite a few followers online. He started it in his freshman year of college, at the suggestion of his therapist. Well, his therapist suggested that he love himself, to take photographs when he felt that he wasn’t enough. 

Growing up in a small town, Stiles wasn’t really who girls went for in high school. College was hard, at first, and it took him getting a camera and finding himself via not quite safe for work photos to come out of his shell. 

He wanted to document the scratches, the marks that Derek left him and morning light was the best for his loft. His bed was made, so he pulled down the covers, rumpling them up on purpose. He set a timer, dropped the towel, then turned his back on the camera, posing with his head turned so it would be barely seen, showing off the scratch marks up his back that stood in contrast to his pale skin dotted with moles. He took another, his arms hugging his chest as he turned towards the camera, his chin lifted towards the ceiling, showing off his hickeys, the teeth marks, along with his tattoos. 

He laid down on the bed, one foot on the edge of the mattress, his knee pointing towards the ceiling as the other leg dangled off the bed, his arm draped over his face. He always tried to keep his face directly out of shots. It wasn’t about people knowing who he was. Derek finding him, knowing who he was--- it was unsettling, but Stiles could roll with it. 

Once he was done, he got dressed, reheated the coffee Derek provided him with, then set out to upload the photos and fix them up in photoshop before he started his real work for the day. He set the photos up in a queue, just like he always did, then spent the rest of the morning working on a few of his projects. 

He didn’t hear from Derek at all, but that didn’t mean anything. That evening, Stiles made his way over to Scott’s, who was having a board game night. To be safe, or rather, to save Scott from making that scrunched up face he makes whenever Stiles smells like another werewolf, Stiles showered one more time before heading out. 

Showering twice did not, in fact, save Scott from making that face when he opened the door for Stiles. 

“Dude,” Scott said as he let Stiles in. 

“Dude, I showered,” Stiles pointed out. 

“What did you guys do?” Scott asked, then made another face. “Actually, I don’t want to know.” Stiles laughed, then rubbed at his neck. Scott noticed. “I see.” 

“Do you have a problem with me sleeping with another alpha? I mean, hanging around another pack?” Stiles asked. 

“Did you meet his pack?” Scott asked, his eyes wide. 

“No, no,” Stiles assured him. “But he’s an alpha, Scotty.” 

“Yeah, I know. He’s pretty cool... We’ll talk about it later. For now: we are playing Ticket to Ride.” It was a thing they did every once in a while, gathering a group of their friends together to play tabletop games. Sometimes it was Settlers of Catan, but Scott refuses to play with Stiles anymore because Stiles always won. 

Halfway through the game, Stiles got a text. There was a rule at game night, and that was no phones allowed on the table at any time. So Stiles didn’t check it until later on, when he’d gone to the bathroom. It had been from Derek, and it had been a simple ‘Mondays suck’ text. Stiles smiled to himself as he texted Derek back. 

_I think Mondays should be outlawed,_ Stiles typed. He bit his lip, waiting to see if there was a response before he had to go back out and join his friends. The good thing about iPhones was the fact that it had the ellipses when someone else was typing. Stiles watched an ellipses appear, and waited not so patiently. 

_I just got home and my place smells like us,_ Derek responded. Stiles groaned, knocking his head against the bathroom door. That sounded like the start of a sext conversation. Werewolf sexting. 

_Check my blog,_ Stiles said, then decided that he needed to go back and join his friends because they tended to get suspicious. If Derek looked on his blog, he’d see the first of the set he’d taken that morning. 

Stiles had been there a few hours before they called it a night. He’d put his phone on silent after he’d left the bathroom and hadn’t checked it until he was in his Jeep, ready to head home. He definitely hadn’t been expecting to have missed calls from Derek, along with texts that read: _Holy shit_ , _Are you home?_ , and then the last one which was five minutes ago read _Call me back?_

“Well, shit,” Stiles said, worried that he maybe shouldn’t have posted the photos. Derek hadn’t left a voicemail, so Stiles dialed his number as he turned his Jeep on. 

“Hey,” Derek said. It had only rung once; Derek wasn’t subtle at all. 

“Hey, sorry, I was at Scott’s.” 

“Right, sorry,” Derek said. “I just-- the pictures--”

“Are you not okay with them? Because I was really feeling the light in my place this morning, and I really like the marks, so I wanted to showcase them a bit--”

“You like them?” Derek asked, his voice quiet. Stiles’ shoulders slumped in relief as he pulled away from Scott’s. 

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles admitted. “A lot. Probably just as much as you like the smell of your sheets right now.” Derek made a noise, which made Stiles grin. Derek cleared his throat, which was adorable. Well, to Stiles it was, but he had a weird sense of what was adorable. He thought grown men with red, swollen lips and fucked out expressions on their faces were adorable. 

“So, what did you think of them?” Stiles asked. 

“Of what?” Derek asked. 

“The photos!” Stiles said. 

“There’s more than one?” Derek asked. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry, I haven’t been online yet so I’m not sure when the others will post, but I took a couple this morning.” 

“Well, the first one makes me want to have you in my bed again.” 

“That can be arranged,” Stiles smirked. “Just name a time and day.” 

“I-- let me get back to you on that. I don’t really take days off, with my brewery, but I’d like another date.” Stiles stopped at light and couldn’t help but cover his mouth with his hand because Derek was so, so over the moon adorable. Dating, they were going on dates... and having amazing, kinky sex. Stiles was so on board with all of it. 

“Yeah, just get back to me.” 

“I’ll talk to you later,” Derek said, sounding like he wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Definitely,” Stiles said before he hung up the phone. Tentative third date planned, and he was willing to bet that if he hadn’t done it already, Derek was going to jack off to the photo Stiles had posted. 

Stiles got online once he was home, checking his personal mail, not even looking at his work email, and checking his blog’s messages. He had the normal ones that stated how much they wanted to bang him, what his Snapchat was, if he used Kik or Tinder, where he was so they could hookup, etc. Sometimes people submitted photos to him, usually of their own dicks and asses, taking them in bathrooms or under shitty lighting. Stiles deleted most of them, rarely engaged in any sort of conversation because the blog was about _him_ and how he felt about _himself_. 

It was in his bio that he didn’t do Snapchat, or Kik. He’d had Tinder for a bit, but that’s where the disaster sex had come from, so he’d since deleted it from his phone. Snapchat was amazing in college, but being away from that environment lost it’s appeal. 

The only submission that caught his eye was that of a man that sent them in pretty steadily. Stiles recognized the dick, and the hands. Usually, they just sent pictures, but this time there was a message attached. 

_I see you like it rough,_ it started, which Stiles rolled his eyes at. Anyone who followed his blog for any amount of time knew that Stiles liked bondage; liked it a bit rough. What really popped out about the message was the next few lines -- _You look like you can take a werewolf well, to be held down and shown your place. I’d like to mark you up like that, sink my claws into you, make you scream my name._

“You couldn’t be more wrong, dude,” Stiles said, deleting the message and the submitted photos. “I’ll show you who’s boss in this scenario,” he grumbled, then shivered, sticking his tongue out. He was creeped out by the message, even though it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. It was the first time someone has stated that they were a werewolf, though. Somehow it felt more like a threat than a come on. 

-

Derek and Stiles texted throughout the week, but nothing more was mentioned about another date. It was Thursday, the day that Scott and Stiles usually went to Blood Moon, and Stiles found himself standing in his bathroom, flossing in just his briefs, a bit nervous. 

Not mentioning another date wasn’t a big deal. Hell, he usually didn’t talk to other people he dated so soon after the first or second date. So what if Derek texted him if he was headed to the bar that night or not, like he _knew_ that was Scott and Stiles’ day to be at the bar. 

So, Stiles was in his bathroom, staring at himself, half naked, thinking about Derek and wondering when date three would be so he could get his hands on him again. 

Stiles ended up having to park a few blocks away, and Boyd stopped him at the door, raising his eyebrow, his nostrils flaring as he looked Stiles up and down. There was no way Stiles still smelled like Derek, not four days later and just as many showers later. 

“You gonna let me in, big guy?” Stiles asked, because Boyd still blocked the doorway. Scott had texted that he was already inside and waiting, so there was no reason for Stiles to be stuck outside. 

“We’re at capacity,” Boyd said, crossing his arms. 

“What? You’re joking,” Stiles said. “My friend is inside waiting for me. I have a nice, shiny stool waiting for my ass to be on it at the bar.” 

“We’re at capacity. Until someone leaves, I can’t let you in.” 

Stiles was about to grumble something along the lines of ‘what if I’m banging your boss/alpha’ when he took out his phone, about to text Derek himself. He eyed Boyd one last time before he started typing furiously. 

_Your beta has restricted my access into your bar._

Short and to the point. Stiles hit send, then crossed his arms, and waited. They had a silent standoff of sorts, which looked completely ridiculous because Boyd could pummel Stiles into the ground with one hand tied behind his back. 

The door swung open, revealing Derek, with his patented scowl and tight shirt, giving Boyd a look. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked. 

“We are at--”

“Capacity,” Stiles finished, pointing at the bar, then flailing his arms. “I’m to wait out here.” 

“No,” Derek said, reaching out for Stiles’ hand, taking it. “You’re allowed in.” 

“Derek--” Boyd said, but stopped when Derek gave him a look that included a flash of red. Stiles wanted to stick his tongue out as he was ushered inside, but knew that would mean war with Boyd, and really, all he wanted as a cold beer after the day he’d had. 

Boyd hadn’t been wrong about the bar being at capacity. It was packed, more so than all the other times that Stiles and Scott had been in the bar before. Scott was by the bar, but there was no stool waiting. As Derek brought Stiles over, Scott gave him an apologizing look. 

“I had to give your seat up,” Scott said as Stiles weaseled his way between Scott and a big dude who was more than likely a werewolf. 

“No problem,” Stiles said as he gave Derek’s hand one last squeeze before letting him go behind the bar. Surprisingly, Derek stayed upstairs, helping Cora out. Without asking for it, Derek brought Stiles a beer, sliding his card back towards him when Stiles tried to give it to him to start a tab. As Stiles brought his beer up to his lips, he smiled, pocketing the debit card. 

Beside him, the werewolf looked him up and down. Normally Stiles wouldn’t mind it, but as he looked around the bar he realized that the usual 50/50 split of humans and werewolves looked to be about 10/90 at the moment, he being probably one of the only humans currently in the bar, judging by size. Stiles definitely judged by size; he was a dick like that. 

He turned his body towards Scott, trying to not look at anyone else. He kept glancing at Derek, who seemed to be keeping tabs on Stiles’ drink, because when he was almost done, he got another in front of him without asking. 

The werewolf next to him noticed. 

“Are you his bitch or something?” He asked Stiles. Stiles turned to look at him after trying to keep to himself. Stiles raised his eyebrows, turning his glass slowly around with his fingers as he leaned against the bar. 

“No,” Stiles said simply. “I’m not. You know he can hear you right?” 

“Gonna sic him on me? Need him to fight your fights?” He was leaning into Stiles’ space so much so that Stiles could feel his breath on his skin, hot and full of alcohol. 

“I know that you need to back up,” Stiles said calmly. “I have a feeling they don’t take brawls in a werewolf bar lightly.”

Scott stepped between them, his eyes flashing red as Stiles finished off his beer, giving Derek a look. Derek himself looked livid, his jaw clenched and claws out, clearly he had been paying perfect attention. 

“Do you want to start something?” Scott asked. Stiles stood up straight, tugging on Scott’s sleeve for him to back away. 

“I’d like to bend him over and breed--”

“Whoa, whoa,” Stiles said, waving his arms around, trying to break the tension by laughing. 

“There is not going to be any orgy happening here, my friend.” Stiles stepped closer to the edge of the bar, stopping when he ran into what felt like a brick wall. That was, of course, Derek, who was stepping out from behind the bar. “No orgies,” Stiles reiterated. “Unless I offer, and I’m not.” 

“Stiles,” Derek said, “get behind the counter.” Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, especially when asshole werewolf’s eyes turned _blue_ instead of red or yellow. Stiles had never seen that before, but he knew it probably didn’t mean anything good. 

“Anyone who engages in fighting in this bar will be banned,” Derek said, his voice loud enough to quiet the entire bar. His gaze was solely on the fucker that threatened Stiles. “Beacon Hills is a neutral territory, but this is _my bar_ , and I won’t allow hostile packs here.” 

“We were told there wouldn’t be humans tonight,” Asshole said, fangs bared. Derek mirrored him. Stiles hadn’t known, hadn’t realized. Boyd appeared next to Asshole, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Being the owner, I think I’ll call the shots. If you have a problem, then by all means, make me angry.” 

Stiles had a slightly inappropriate boner, but that was to be expected when Derek was putting other werewolves in their place. Without another word, Derek came back behind the bar, took Stiles’ hand in his own, then lead him down the stairs, towards the basement. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, looking up at the door, now shut. The silence down in the basement was deafening, and Derek’s stance was still full of tension. “I didn’t know, no one mentioned no humans.”

“It’s-- it was my fault. I wanted to see you, I didn’t think about what would happen if you walked in here so close to the full moon.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said, biting his lip. The full moon was in a few days, and though Scott had full control over his shift, that couldn’t be said about everyone. “Still, Boyd tried to stop me.” 

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” Derek said. Stiles grinned as he stepped forward, placing his hand on Derek’s chest. 

“I know, and neither would Scott. I trust you,” Stiles said. Derek sucked in a deep breath, then let it out as he nodded his head. Stiles leaned forward, kissing Derek on the lips. It deepened quickly as Derek lead Stiles towards the wall, shoving him against it. Stiles moaned as Derek scooted him up the wall. With his legs wrapped around Derek’s waist, he held on by gripping Derek’s shirt, almost ripping it. Derek scrapped his stubble across Stiles’ neck, his erection pressing against Stiles’ ass. 

“It was really hot, you just taking charge--”

“I could smell you,” Derek said as he mouthed at Stiles’ neck, soothing the stubble burn he left there. “Can still smell you on my sheets. I want you, I want to be inside you, I want to fuck you, god--”

“Fuck,” Stiles said as Derek bit down, then sucked, careful not to break the skin with is teeth. Stiles could come in his pants at how hard Derek was biting him. “I want to fuck you so bad.” 

“I have to stay late,” Derek grumbled, their kisses slowing. Stiles slid back down the wall, his feet landing safely on the ground. 

“Come over then, after,” Stiles said, kissing Derek on the lips, then biting the bottom one before sucking on it as Derek palmed at Stiles’ ass. “Date three: late night fuck.” 

“You’re not a booty call,” Derek said. 

“Not the same thing,” Stiles said, bumping his nose against Derek’s cheek, smiling. “Booty call would be me texting you late at night, telling you to come over, no strings attached.” 

“There are strings here,” Derek said, his hand sliding up Stiles’ side, beneath the fabric of his shirt. Stiles nodded his head as Derek’s thumb grazed over his nipple. 

“Definitely,” Stiles said in a breathy laugh. 

“Do you, I mean-- Are there others?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head as he licked his lips. 

“No, just you. Wouldn’t you be able to smell them?” Stiles asked. 

“I just smell Scott,” Derek said, burying his nose against Stiles’ neck again. “And lust.” 

“Well,” Stiles snorted. “No surprise there.” 

“So tonight, it will be late,” Derek pointed out. “Like, three.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said, holding back the disappointment. 

“But,” Derek said, his hands still roaming Stiles’ body. “I’m taking Saturday off, so once I’m off tomorrow--”

“Real date number three?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded his head as he kissed Stiles again, this time cupping Stiles’ face in his hands. “I want you to have your way with me,” Derek confessed. “I like when you have control. When I can just... let go.” 

Stiles kissed Derek on the lips again, his eyes closed tight as he wrapped his arms around Derek, holding him tight. He couldn’t wait to fuck Derek. 

-

Stiles’ Friday went by agonizingly slow. Getting out of Blood Moon after the almost disaster had been interesting. Derek and Scott both walked with Stiles to his Jeep, in case the asshole with the blue eyes tried jumping him once he left the building. Thankfully, nothing happened. 

Instead of sleeping, Stiles tried researching what blue eyes meant in regards to werewolves. Finding any concrete information on werewolves was still difficult to come by online, considering the fact that they were still technically underground. A few cups of coffee and a whole lot of nothing later, Stiles was too wired to go to bed so he worked instead. It was dawn by the time he crawled into bed, setting his alarm for a decent hour. 

Despite waking up around two, Stiles felt like time was not on his side. He kept glancing at the clock while working. He even went for a run to pass the time, but Derek was still nowhere near being off work for the evening. Stiles showered, got ready for their date, then sat at his computer with a sandwich as he checked his blog. There were more submissions waiting for him with the arrival with the other pictures that he’d taken. He scrolled through them without comment, mostly used to the attention. They wanted a video, a few demanded face pictures, some asked for another way to contact him. It was mostly the same message over and over, until he got to a picture with _those hands_ , the ones he’d know anywhere. Stiles braced himself as he scrolled down, barely looking at the hard dick in the picture. The message below read:

 _When I think of you beneath me, begging to be fucked, I want to make you gag on my cock, then leave you gaping wide open._

In terms of messages, it wasn’t _that_ bad, but the dude obviously had it all wrong about Stiles. He wanted to do the gagging, and as Stiles deleted the submission, he rolled his eyes. 

“Your dick isn’t big enough for that,” He mumbled to himself, amused. He never responded to him, didn’t want to give him any sort of attention. Stiles finished his sandwich, then decided to play Trivia Crack until the doorbell rang. 

Stiles practically ran down the stairs, but slowed as he reached the door, opening it to find Derek standing there with a smile on his face, t-shirt hidden by a leather jacket. Stiles reached out, tugging Derek inside by his jacket. Derek stood in the small foyer, the two of them crowding the area. The door shut, and Stiles pressed Derek against it, their lips crashing together. He hadn’t touched Derek since the weekend, and that was too long. He wanted him naked, wanted to pin him down. 

“I don’t know about you,” Derek said, his hands on Stiles’ ass as they kissed. “But I’m starving.” 

“I just had a sandwich, but I could eat,” Stiles said. “It was more of a snack, anyways.”

Derek cupped Stiles face with his hands, his thumbs caressing Stiles’ cheeks as he looked into his eyes. 

“Can we go to my place after?” Derek asked. Stiles gave him a confused look, because he had more supplies, he had rope which he wanted to use more, he had toys, he had-- “I want my sheets to smell like you.” Stiles smiled, leaning in for another kiss. He wouldn’t deny Derek that. 

“Sure,” Stiles said, slipping his hand beneath the leather jacket, against the warmth that Derek radiated.

They kissed for a bit longer before heading out towards Derek’s car. 

“Want to get something to go?” Derek asked. 

“Definitely,” Stiles said as he buckled his seatbelt. He searched his phone for the only Chinese place on the way out of town towards Derek’s. Stiles called in an order so that it would be ready by the time they got there. This time, Stiles paid, making Derek wait in the car. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Derek said as Stiles set the food down on the floor between his legs. 

“Yeah, pretty sure I did,” Stiles said, giving Derek a grin. 

When they turned down Derek’s drive, which was a ways away from the road, Derek slowed down, his eyes narrowing. 

“What is it?” Stiles asked, sitting up straighter.

“Someone’s here,” Derek said with a long, suffering sigh. “Pack.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said, trying not to sound disappointed that they wouldn’t be fucking just yet. “Well, you’re the alpha, so do they usually come over just to hang out?” 

“No,” Derek said, not looking at Stiles as he parked. “I’ll see what he wants.” 

Stiles followed Derek up the stairs of the deck, then into the kitchen. Inside, an older man waited at the island, sitting perched on a stool with his hands folded in front of him. Stiles found it disconcerting as he set the food down on the island countertop. 

“Peter,” Derek said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Is that how you greet your uncle?” He asked, looking put out. Peter looked from Derek to Stiles, his eyes landing on Stiles’ tattoos. After a pause, he looked up at Stiles’ face, the grin that spread across his face practically feral. “And aren’t you going to introduce me?” 

“Peter, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is my uncle Peter.” 

Stiles reached his hand out amiably, as one does during an introduction, to shake Peter’s hand. Peter made to stand, and took Stiles’ hand in both of his, cupping it. Stiles looked from Peter’s eyes down to his hands, his eyes widening. 

He knew those hands, and as Peter’s grip tightened, he let Stiles know that he knew exactly who Stiles was as well. Stiles pulled his hand away, taking a step towards Derek as he tried to keep his heartbeat steady. 

“Nice to meet you,” Stiles heard himself say. 

“Likewise,” Peter said. “I must say, I had no idea that my nephew had a boyfriend.” Stiles bit his lip as he looked at Derek. They hadn’t had that talk, yet. 

“We just started dating,” Derek said in answer. He put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, sliding it to his neck. Stiles leaned towards Derek. Derek was an alpha, and showing dominance around pack was important. Stiles hooked his finger around one of Derek’s belt loops, tugging him close, his eyes on Peter once more. 

“Well, don’t let me keep you, obviously I’ve interrupted your evening.” 

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked. 

“I came to visit,” Peter said with a shrug. “For the full moon, of course.” 

“It isn’t an equinox,” Derek pointed out. Stiles found it interesting, how Derek’s posture was stiff, his voice devoid of emotion, which was completely the opposite he was around the rest of his pack. 

“Am I not allowed to be with my pack for the full moon?” Peter asked with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Of course you are,” Derek said, tight lipped. “Have you eaten?” 

“No, actually, I haven’t.”

Stiles couldn’t protest as the three of them sat at the counter and ate in silence. Normally, he’d ask Peter where he lived, what he did for a living, how long he was planning on staying, but instead Stiles concentrated on his crab rangoon and wonton soup. He let Derek have one of his crab rangoon, but he wasn’t about to share one with Peter. 

Afterwards, Stiles started cleaning up just to have something to do. Peter sat at the counter, watching him as Derek disappeared down the hall. Stiles could feel Peter’s gaze on him as he washed his hands. For once, Stiles wished he’d covered his tattoos had worn a long-sleeved shirt instead of a short-sleeved one, because he knew that was what got Peter’s attention. 

To be fair, that was what got Derek’s as well, but this was different. He knew exactly what Peter wanted, and Stiles wanted nothing to do with him. 

Derek reappeared with a duffel bag in hand. Stiles eyed it, relieved that they weren’t staying. 

“The guest room is yours,” Derek said. “The air mattress is in the closet.” 

“Of course,” Peter said, bowing his head slightly, closing his eyes. When he opened them, his eyes flashed blue. Stiles looked to Derek, but he hadn’t been paying attention as he grabbed his wallet and keys from their designated spots. “I hope to see you again, Stiles.”

As he and Derek walked out the door, he didn’t say a word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more added tags! this fic is going to have... a lot of tags. if you feel like i've missed a tag, please let me know!
> 
> I've started a side porn blog for this fic over on tumblr! follow [misbehave-dly](http://misbehave-dly.tumblr.com) for nsfw pics/gifs that reminds me of this verse along with ONESHOTS of Stiles and Derek in this verse, because I can't get enough of them! Also, if you have any requests of a scene for them, shoot me an ask there! (bdsm based, please!) 
> 
> again, thank you for reading, commenting, and subscribing! you guys are amazing.

“Sorry about him,” Derek said once they’d gotten into the car and driven onto the road, a safe distance away so Peter wouldn’t hear them. Stiles had his arms crossed as he looked out the window, trying to think of how to proceed. It was his business, really, that Peter had sent him pictures. In all probability, now that Peter knew who Stiles was, that he was with his nephew, those submissions would stop. At least, he hoped they would. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Stiles said, meaning it. He looked over at Derek, whose brow was drawn downwards. “Seriously,” Stiles said, reaching out for Derek, putting his hand over Derek’s where it was on the clutch. “So where does he live, I thought packs stayed together.” 

Derek sighed, shaking his head as he looked out ahead, keeping his eyes on the road as they headed into town. 

“He’s in the pack by blood alone. His allegiance has always been -- my pack isn’t strong,” Derek said, looking at Stiles. He was showing Stiles his weakness, a real weakness, one that would kill him if known by the wrong people. Derek trusted Stiles. Derek visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he shifted gears. “He lives in San Fransisco, only comes up to celebrate the equinoxes. I don’t know why he’s here. Until he’s gone--” 

Stiles rubbed his thumb back and forth over Derek’s knuckles as he thought, as he let Derek gather his own thoughts. 

“We can keep our dates to my place,” Stiles suggested with a smile. Derek gave him one in return, though the tension hadn’t completely left him yet. Stiles would make sure that when he was done with him, he’d be a limp noodle, without a care in the world. 

When they pulled up to Stiles’ loft, he had Derek park in the back, in the alleyway behind the building so that Derek didn’t need to get up early to move his Camaro. They held hands as they walked up the stairs, duffel bag in hand. Stiles toed off his shoes, then turned towards Derek. 

“So, what’s in the bag?” He asked, curious. Derek ducked his head, his cheeks reddening as he knelt down to unzip the bag. Inside was a set of sheets. 

“I thought, since I like our scents mixed, that we could fuck on these.”

Stiles nodded his head repeatedly as he helped Derek back to his feet by grabbing hold of his neck. He was completely turned on by the fact that Derek got off on how he smelled; how they both smelled. Their kiss was electrifying as their mouths crashed together. 

“I’ll fuck you however you want,” Stiles said, his teeth nipping at Derek’s chin, his nails raking down his back. Derek groaned, exposing his neck to Stiles as he gripped Stiles’ ass. Stiles knew exactly what would make Derek forget all about his uncle. 

“I just-- I want to be able to touch you tonight.” 

“No restraints,” Stiles said, breathing hot on Derek’s neck as they stumbled towards the bed, yanking at each other’s clothes as they went, leaving a trail of discarded clothing on the floor. 

“Not tonight,” Derek said. “But later, I like it-- I want more of that.” Stiles grinned against Derek’s mouth as he said the words, elated that Derek felt the same way he did about the rope. 

“We can do that tomorrow, maybe? We talked about spending the day together--”

“Yes,” Derek practically growled, his eyes flashing. Stiles moaned as they fell onto the bed, Derek on top of him, his massive form pinning him in place. Stiles had a hand in Derek’s hair, another pinching his nipple as they kissed. Derek thrust his hips against him as Stiles pressed his thumb and forefinger down harder, eliciting a low groan from him. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Stiles said as he brushed his thumb delicately over the area he’d just pinched. Derek hissed as he nodded his head.  
“Roll over,” Stiles said. Derek did as Stiles asked, showing off the impressive bulge in his jeans. “Strip,” he instructed.

Stiles watched as Derek unzipped his jeans, making a show of sliding them down his thighs as he laid down, kicking them to the ground. 

“Jack off for me,” Stiles said as he got off the bed, but kept his eyes on Derek. He could feel himself getting hard for Derek as he got out the lube and condoms. He showed it to Derek, who hesitated. “If you want, I know you can’t carry anything.”

“It’s safer for you,” Derek said. Stiles nodded his head, tossing the condom to Derek. Derek stopped stroking himself to roll the condom on, then kept going, his hand moving up and down his length. 

Stiles striped down as well, adding his jeans and briefs to the pile by the bed. He had the lube in his hand as he straddled Derek’s chest. 

“Do you want to stretch me out?” Stiles asked. Derek’s hands were on Stiles’ ass, fingers already spreading him wide, brushing against his entrance. Stiles laughed as he opened the cap of the lube. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

“Yes,” Derek said. 

“I have a condition,” Stiles said seriously. “You can fuck me, but I don’t want you to treat me like I’m fragile. I like it rough.” 

“Okay,” Derek said, his voice breaking as Stiles twisted his body, pouring a dollop of lube onto Derek’s fingers. 

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I might,” Derek said as he circled a finger around Stiles’ hole. 

“I want you to,” Stiles said with a grin as he tossed the lube aside, then cupped Derek’s face with his hands. “Two fingers.” Derek complied, starting with two before he even had one inside of Stiles. Stiles winced as he looked down at Derek, his mouth open wide as Derek began fucking him with his fingers. It felt good to be fucked by something other than his own fingers, or a toy. He couldn’t control the pace of Derek’s fingers, or how he moved. 

Stiles bent over, kissing Derek as he got stretched, moving his hips against Derek’s fingers. 

“Another,” Stiles said. The stretch of the third finger made Stiles groan. Derek began to hesitate, so Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s hair, yanking it. Derek sunk his fingers into Stiles further, crooking them, making Stiles scream out as his toes curled. 

“I’m ready,” Stiles said. “Fuck me, Derek.” Derek removed his fingers and lined himself up with help of Stiles as he sat up, guiding Derek’s cock into him with his hand. Once he slid into Stiles, Stiles sunk down onto him, cupping Derek’s balls in his hand. It was Stiles who set the pace now. Derek slid his hands over Stiles’ thighs as he moved, fucking himself on Derek’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said. “I want to be _fucked_ , Derek.” Derek gripped Stiles’ hips, holding tight as he pistons his hips upwards, fucking into Stiles hard. Stiles let out a litany of noises as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the loft, bouncing off the walls. Stiles could feel how hard Derek held onto him, bruising. Stiles grit his teeth, throwing his head back as he felt pinpricks of claws against his skin. 

Warmth spread throughout his body as he shook, coming onto Derek’s stomach without being touched. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Stiles gasped as he rode his climax completely. Derek’s hips jerked as he, too, came. 

“Oh god,” Derek said as his thrusts slowed. He kept going until he was spent, pulling out of Stiles. Stiles rolled off of him, panting as he looked over Derek’s body. He looked good, his hair a mess, his pupils blown while he was covered in Stiles’ come. 

Stiles ran his hands over the sheets, Derek’s sheets, thinking about how their sweat was rubbing into the sheets, soaking into it. He scooted closer to Derek, throwing his leg over Derek’s, his hand splayed on Derek’s chest, teasing at his barbell piercing. Derek was blissed out, his chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling, his own hands smearing Stiles’ come across his stomach. Stiles watched, his thumb catching on the barbell, mesmerized as Derek scented himself with Stiles’ come. 

“Your pack,” Stiles said, resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. “They’ll smell me on you.” 

“Yes,” Derek said, his voice all but gone as he turned his head to look at Stiles. “They already know-- that we’ve fucked around.” 

Stiles hummed. “What else can be done, so they know. I want them to know undeniably, that we are together.” Derek’s brow furrowed as Stiles kissed him.

“I know you want to scent me properly,” Stiles said, his voice sultry as he trailed his nose down Derek’s chin, along his neck. Derek breathed heavily, like the thought of scenting Stiles sent him over the edge. Stiles grasped at Derek’s hair, which was the perfect length to hold onto, and rolled back on top of him, hooking his legs over Derek’s, tucking his toes beneath Derek’s knees. 

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” Stiles told him. Derek’s hands were on his ass again, spreading his cheeks, pressing his fingers against Stiles’ just fucked ass. Stiles hissed, biting down on his lip hard. It felt good. 

“I want to scent you,” Derek rasped. 

“How,” Stiles said, pinching Derek’s nipples. “Tell me how.”

“I want to put my mouth on every inch of you. I want to lick you clean and eat you out. I want to rub my cock all over you, fuck you with it. I just--”

Stiles bent over, kissing Derek, open-mouthed and filthy as Derek whined beneath him. 

“I’m yours, then. Have at me.” 

Derek growled, flipping Stiles over onto the bed, manhandling him. Stiles felt his cock twitch at the force Derek used as he pinned Stiles in place. Stiles moaned at the feel of Derek’s strength pressing against him, his mouth latching onto Stiles’ neck, sucking hard, blunt teeth digging into his flesh. Stiles squirmed as Derek licked across the stinging skin, then moved on, lifting Stiles’ arms and burying his face in his armpits, licking and stilling, running his nose over the sensitive area over and over, biting every so often. His tongue trailed up and down the area, mouth sucking a line of hickeys, making Stiles whimper and buck his hips. Derek took his time, his hands roaming as his mouth moved to Stiles’ nipples. His fingernails remained blunt as he trailed across Stiles’ skin with his hands, grabbing the meat of Stiles’ ass and kneading it before moving on, running his hands up and down Stiles’ thighs as he mouthed lower and lower, burying his face against Stiles’ groin, licking tentatively at his hardening cock. Stiles twitched, panting as Derek took him into his mouth for only a second before moving to Stiles’ balls, licking at them before sucking. 

Derek continued on, biting and sucking at Stiles’ thighs, his hands massaging Stiles’ calves, his feet. Stiles began scratching his own nails across his body, though cut short, red welts shown when he stopped. Derek traced over the welts with his tongue, soothing them. Stiles moaned, his chest heaving as Derek took his cock back into his mouth, his movements languid and not with haste. It was agonizing. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, panting as Derek licked a stripe up Stiles’ stomach, mouthing at the trail of hair that lead from his belly button down to his cock. “Please, I need--”

Derek sunk two fingers into Stiles, making his back arch, his hands reach out for him as he began fucking Stiles with his fingers. Stiles moaned, his eyes shut as Derek sucked on his cock and thrust his fingers in and out of him, twisting them. He could feel his climax building as his toes curled. “Derek--”

He pulled back, leaving Stiles whining at the loss of all contact, keeping him at the edge. Stiles’ entire body shook as he cried out. Derek’s mouth teased at the head of his cock, sucking and lapping at it without sinking down. Stiles tried to buck his hips upwards, but Derek held him in place. He wasn’t used to being held down. It made his heartbeat feel as though it was about to burst out of his chest. Stiles tried to breathe in through his nose, but he couldn’t catch his breath. He tried to calm down, but it wasn’t working. 

Derek noticed. 

“Color?” Derek asked, his grip loosening immediately. Stiles shook his head, covering his face with his hands to hide how overwhelmed he was. He had tears in his eyes. “Stiles, color?” Derek asked again, more firmly. 

“Yellow,” Stiles said, his breath shaking. “I just need a minute.” Derek sat up, letting Stiles breathe. “I got overwhelmed,” Stiles said after a minute of silence. “It was you pinning me, but not.” Stiles sat up, seeking out Derek’s touch. His erection was gone, as was Derek’s, but that was okay. Derek took Stiles into his arms, burying his face against Stiles’ neck, breathing him in. “I’m okay,” Stiles soothed, his hand brushing down Derek’s back. “You didn’t hurt me.” 

“It wasn’t about hurt,” Derek said. “I wanted-- you want pain, but I wanted to show you more.” Stiles’ breath caught in his throat as he shut his eyes, nodding his head in understanding. He got overwhelmed because Derek _cared_ about him, was giving him attention and pleasure. Stiles ached, letting Derek wrap his arms around him as he sat straddling Derek’s lap, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder. “I won’t do it again.” 

“No,” Stiles said, not wanting Derek to feel as though he couldn’t scent Stiles the way he wished. “No, you can. Let’s just-- I need to know that’s how you’re going to do it. You can scent me.” 

“There are other ways to do it,” Derek said, kissing the back of Stiles’ head, his hands roaming Stiles’ body. “Holding you like this works for me.” Stiles smiled, his head turning towards Derek’s shoulder to place a kiss there. “You ready to sleep?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, but didn’t move. Derek placed Stiles down onto the bed, leaving him long enough to get a wet wipe from the nightstand, where Stiles kept a few, cleaning off Stiles’ come from his stomach. He then returned to Stiles, draping his body over him, pulling him close. Stiles drifted off to sleep with Derek’s arms wrapped around him, safe. 

-

Stiles woke up early, laying in bed next to Derek for a few minutes, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, before getting out of bed. He showered, quickly, shaved, and brushed his teeth before pulling on a pair of loose sweatpants. He did stop and admire the marks left on his body by Derek the night before, trailing his fingers over the numerous hickeys. Putting on a pot of coffee to brew, he then made his way to one of his closets, this one full of plastic bins. He pulled down the one up top, knowing exactly what he was going for. He opened the lid, and grinned. 

He and Derek had the day together, and he had a few ideas on how to pass the time. 

Inside the bin was a sex swing. He picked it up and brought it over to the couch, dropping it there for the time being while he brought a kitchen chair over, standing on it. Above him, barely within reach, were hooks in the ceiling for the sex swing to hang from. 

When he was done setting it up, Derek was still asleep, his face buried in Stiles’ pillow, bare ass facing Stiles. He bit his lip, fighting with himself about snapping a few pictures. They hadn’t discussed that yet. 

He made breakfast, which was bacon and eggs with toast. Derek stirred in the midst of Stiles frying the bacon, bleary eyed and hair rumpled. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, smirking at Derek’s nakedness. “If you want to hop in the shower, breakfast will be done when you get out.” Derek nodded his head, yawning as he turned towards the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist, his brow drawn downward. 

“I have a pair of sweats, if you want?” Stiles asked, handing Derek a mug of coffee. 

“Yes, please,” Derek said, blowing on the mug before taking a sip. He hadn’t seen the swing, yet, his eyes on Stiles instead as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants for Derek. 

It wasn’t until they were halfway through breakfast that Derek looked towards the living area, his eyes widening at the swing. 

“That wasn’t there last night,” he pointed out. Stiles shook his head, shrugging as he took a sip of his own coffee. 

“Do you like it?” Stiles asked, putting the idea out there. Derek’s cheeks reddened as he looked Stiles in the eye and nodded his head. 

“Yeah,” Derek said. Stiles smiled, glad Derek was on board. “I’ve never been fucked in one before.” 

“Well, then,” Stiles said with a smirk, taking another sip of his coffee. “We’re going to have fun later.” 

“I can’t wait,” Derek said, looking to the swing again. “I know I said that I wasn’t working today, but--”

“You need to go in?” Stiles asked. 

“I just want to check on the brews,” Derek said. “I don’t need to stay, but--”

“Okay,” Stiles said. “I can stay here and get some stuff done work wise, if you want to come back after.” 

“Yeah,” Derek said, shifting in his seat. “I need to go talk to Peter, too. To see why he’s here.” Stiles understood, even though he ached at the loss of spending the entire day with Derek. “I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.” 

“Sure,” Stiles said, standing up in order to clear the table. 

“I’ll bring us back lunch,” Derek promised, wrapping his arms around Stiles and kissing his cheek. “Thank you for making breakfast.” 

“No problem,” Stiles said, chasing Derek’s mouth with his own for a real kiss. “When you get back, be ready.” 

“Oh, I’ll be ready,” Derek said with a grin, kissing Stiles again before he went to get dressed, pulling on his clothes from the day before. 

Derek packed his sheets as well, taking them with him back to his house. Once he was gone, Stiles got online, checking his blog. He scrolled quickly, searching for Peter. Luckily, he hadn’t submitted anything else. Relief flooded through Stiles. Hopefully, because Peter knew Stiles was with Derek, he’d back off. 

Stiles wasted time by going through his bins. He had a good array of toys and other things, so many ideas about what he wanted to do with Derek, he didn’t know where to start. They needed to sit down and talk about it, talk about their relationship, about how they were going to deal with the two packs. 

With stuff strewn around him, Stiles jumped when his phone vibrated in the pocket of his sweatpants, which he was still wearing. He looked at the caller ID, grinning when he saw Scott’s name. 

“Hey dude, what’s up?” Stiles asked as he dug around in the bin, pulling out a pair of ear plugs tangled up with the wire of a bullet. Stiles set the two pieces in his lap, idly untangling them as Scott talked. 

“Not much, man, just wondering what you’re up to.”

“Uh, cleaning up,” Stiles said, half laughing about the mess of sex toys he’d made. “I kind of made a mess.” 

“Have plans today? Allison and I were thinking of having the pack over for dinner.” Stiles’ shoulders slumped. He should really have dinner with the pack, but he wanted to spend time with Derek, too. 

“What time?” Stiles asked, twisting his body to look at the clock in the kitchen. 

“We’re thinking around seven.” It was barely eleven. Stiles sighed, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah, I can be there. Can’t wait.” 

“See you later!” Scott said before hanging up. Stiles began packing everything up, leaving out a few of the things, for tentative use. 

As soon as everything was away and he got dressed, there was a knock at the door. Stiles rushed down the stairs, unable to keep from smiling as he opened it to reveal Derek. 

“That was fast,” Stiles said as he let Derek in. 

“I wanted to get back to you,” Derek admitted. Stiles let himself be kissed, his eyes closing as Derek pressed him up against the wall, the door shut behind them. “And that swing.” 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Stiles said. 

“I brought lunch, but we just ate a bit ago, so,” Derek showed Stiles a carryout bag from a gourmet sandwich place in town. “We could save it for later.” 

“Sounds good, come on up,” Stiles said, taking Derek’s hand in his own. 

“So I’ve been thinking,” Derek said as he looked at the swing again. “About us.” 

“Yeah?” Stiles asked as he took the sandwiches and put them in the fridge. “Me too.” 

“I want us to be together, in a relationship,” Derek said. 

“I do, too,” Stiles said as he leaned on his kitchen counter. 

“I haven’t been in one for a few years,” Derek confessed, as if it was a weight on his shoulders. “My pack knows that we’ve been seeing each other, but I want you to officially meet them.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, trying to hide his excitement by shoving his hands in his pockets. “Then I want you to meet my pack, well, Scott’s, as well.” Derek nodded his head, averting his gaze. 

“I’d like to meet with Scott separately, first, if that’s okay,” Derek said, his jaw set tight. 

“You guys aren’t going to have to, like, stake it out over me are you?” Stiles asked. He’d never slept with an alpha, never officially been with a werewolf more than a few times. He didn’t know the etiquette behind it. Derek shrugged, letting Stiles knew that he wasn’t sure how to talk about it. “Scott’s my best friend,” Stiles stated. 

“I know,” Derek said, looking over Stiles’ body. “I want to claim you, though.” 

Stiles took a step forward, touching Derek’s arms, sliding his hands up his shoulders as he kissed him. 

“We can talk with Scott,” Stiles said. “That reminds me, I have to go to a dinner tonight at seven, so we only have the afternoon.” Derek looked at the clock on the microwave, seeing how much time they had. They had hours, yet. 

“Okay,” Derek said, kissing Stiles chastely. “What do you have in mind, then?” 

“Swing, definitely,” Stiles said, his hand trailing down Derek’s chest. “Then, I wanted-- I wanted to talk to you about photographs.” 

“I don’t care if you post on a blog,” Derek said, his eyes wide. “I wouldn’t ask you to stop--”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant, but I’m glad you don’t care about that,” Stiles said, tugging on Derek’s belt loops playfully. “I mean you, I want to take pictures of... you.” 

“Oh,” Derek said, his jaw slack while he thought. “If you want, I mean. Sure.” 

“I wouldn’t post them without showing you them first,” Stiles pointed out. “Nothing with your face.” 

“Of course,” Derek said, his nose brushing across Stiles’ cheek. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I really like Shibari,” Stiles breathed out, his eyes searching Derek’s as he said it. “And I want-- to see you bound.” He was panting, his hand resting on Derek’s chest as he waited for a response. Derek nodded his head, looking around the room, seemingly for the rope. 

“Yes,” Derek said, sighing as he nodded again. “I trust you.” Stiles let out a sigh of relief, kissing Derek on the mouth again. 

“Can I tie you up first? Then fuck you, I want to fuck you.” 

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me,” Derek admitted, cupping Stiles’ ass and squeezing it. Stiles grunted against Derek’s mouth as they kissed. It became heated as Derek tugged at Stiles’ shirt. 

Before they did anything, Stiles checked the clock again. He sighed to himself, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take the time he wanted to do Shibari with Derek before he would have to go to Scott’s. Derek wanted to be fucked, and he wasn’t going to deny him that. 

“Come on,” Stiles said, pulling Derek towards the couch. He sat down, gnawing on his bottom lip as he held onto Derek’s hand as he stood there looking down at Stiles. 

“What are we doing?” Derek asked, confused. 

“We’re gonna make out,” Stiles said with a grin, tugging Derek down onto the couch, on top of him. He laid out with his back against the cushions, Derek laying on top of him. They kissed, lazily at first, but picked up heat as time passed. Derek removed his own shirt, then Stiles’. He stared down at Stiles’ body, his fingers tracing over the marks he’d left there. Stiles let him take his time admiring his handy work. Watching Derek watch him made Stiles hard as he shifted beneath him, catching Derek’s eye. 

They continued kissing, moving against each other as the intensity grew between them. Stiles loved the ebb and flow of sensuality, of sex. He liked the slow build up, the sudden intensity felt, the need deep within to pick up the pace. He couldn’t wait to fuck Derek. 

As Derek got off of him and knelt beside the couch, Stiles’ thoughts flashed to the night before. He wanted this to be about Derek, not about himself. Instead of letting Derek unzip his jeans, Stiles sat up and cupped Derek’s face with his hands, boxing Derek between his legs, hooking them around him. Derek smirked against the kiss, standing up and taking Stiles with him. Stiles groaned, deepening the kiss as Derek walked them over to the sex swing. 

Stiles stepped down onto the ground with ease, thanks to Derek guiding him, his hands on Stiles’ thighs. They both took a step back from each other, unzipping their jeans at the same time. Derek, once more, was without underwear of any sort. Stiles wrapped his hand around his cock as he thought about Derek, always without underwear, at work, at home; everywhere. 

He may have short circuited a bit thinking about it. 

Stiles grabbed lube, beforehand, and set it by the coffee table. 

“I want you to tie my hands,” Derek said, which knocked the wind out of Stiles. “I liked that, the first night.” 

“Okay, give me a minute,” Stiles said as he walked over to his bed, where the rope was underneath it. When he returned with rope in hand, Derek was in the swing, just putting his feet in place, his legs spread wide, cock laying against his stomach, half hard. “I’m going to put them over your head,” Stiles said, throwing the rope over one of the wooden beams on overhead of the swing. Derek nodded his head as he lifted them up for Stiles, putting them together. Stiles took his time binding Derek’s hands together, making a geometric pattern with the rope as he knotted it. He started farther down Derek’s forearms instead of simply tying his wrists, his breathing heavy as he saw Derek tug against the rope. He could still break free, though the strain shown against the rope made Stiles harder. This way, Derek was completely his. 

Before he started, Stiles bent over, kissing Derek on the lips. Derek’s eyes were closed as he let out a moan. Stiles ran his fingers down Derek’s chest, thumb catching on his nipple, but didn’t stop to do anything more. Derek rocked in the swing, his chest rising and falling evenly, his cock barely hard, now. Stiles walked around the swing, admiring the sight of Derek with his legs spread, his hands bound intricately. He was beautiful as Stiles dropped to his knees before him, getting a look at his ass. Stiles cupped Derek’s balls first, fondling them before nosing at them. He watched as Derek’s cock twitched, began to harden at the touch. 

Stiles mouthed at them, then teased at Derek’s hole with a swipe of his tongue. If he had the time, he’d eat him out until he couldn’t move his jaw, make Derek squirm with need, but they didn’t have the time. Stiles groaned at the fact that he had a time crunch. He licked until Derek was wet, his cock hard as his moans were a constant, filling the room’s silence with each flick of Stiles’ tongue. 

Stiles wiped his mouth as he stood up, stretching out. Derek hung there, his head tilted back with his neck exposed, his mouth hanging open; he was in subspace. Stiles, too, felt the haze of being in the moment. He took the lube in hand, warming it with his fingers before inserting a finger into Derek’s opening. Derek didn’t so much as move, but the moan he let out was enough to make Stiles’ cock throb between his legs. 

“Color?” Stiles asked, his voice shot. Seeing Derek so blissed out already had him just as affected. Derek didn’t answer, so Stiles pulled his hand back. 

“Green,” Derek said, his eyes opening to reveal blown out pupils. “Please,” he pleaded. Stiles returned to him, sliding two fingers in instead of one, opening him up. That time, Derek moved against him, rocking his hips on the swing. Stiles concentrated on fucking Derek with his fingers, his own mouth open as he breathed heavily. “Please, Stiles, I need-- I want you to fuck me.” 

Stiles pulled his fingers back, smearing the lube across Derek’s stomach and cock as he took him in his hand, jacking him off a few times before slicking his cock with lube. Stiles lined himself up with Derek’s entrance, watching as the head of his cock disappeared within. He pulled back out, then in again, pressing further inwards with each thrust. When he bottomed out, Derek groaned. Stiles held onto Derek’s thighs, his fingers slick as they dug into his skin. He began thrusting, the swing adding intensity and momentum as Derek met him thrust for thrust. Stiles watched as Derek strained against the restraints, his eyes flashing red as they rolled. 

“You want to shift?” Stiles asked as he fucked him. “I know you want to, come on Derek,” Stiles encouraged as he rocked his hips, the swing helping him fuck Derek, hard. He watched as Derek’s fingernails turned into claws, his teeth into fangs. Stiles groaned at the sight, his body shaking. Derek’s toes were curled, his cock smearing precome across his stomach, fully hard. Stiles picked up the pace of his thrusts, his ass clenching as he moved. 

He wrapped a hand around Derek’s cock, using the momentum of the swing to help stroke Derek, his hand staying in place. Derek arched against the swing, letting out a growl as he came onto his own stomach. Stiles kept stroking him after he was spent, until he felt his own climax building. Derek whined beneath him with oversensitivity as Stiles held onto his limp cock, thumb playing with the foreskin, hand covered in Derek’s come. 

Stiles pulled out before he came, jacking off over Derek’s body, adding his come to Derek’s chest. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said, his adrenaline spiking. He carefully undid the ropes that bound Derek’s hands together. They left an indentation, the red quickly fading thanks to Derek’s healing ability. If it had been Stiles that was bound, the imprint would remain for much longer. “Come on up,” Stiles said as he helped Derek to his feet. “Be careful--”

Derek had his hands on Stiles as soon as his feet touched the ground, hoisting Stiles up by his ass, their mouths crashing together as Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek, their chests pressing together. Stiles didn’t think about their come, now smeared across both of their chests as Derek kissed him, his fangs catching on Stiles’ lips and tongue. 

Stiles’ breath was shaky as Derek pressed on, his tongue delving into Stiles’ mouth, claws pricking at his skin. Stiles gasped when he felt Derek’s cock against his entrance, hard as it slid between Stiles’ ass cheeks. 

“What-- your refractory period is insane,” Stiles rasped as Derek marked his neck, sucking on it and dragging his beard across it. Stiles groaned as he clung to Derek, unable to believe that Derek was _holding him up_. “You wanna fuck me?” Stiles asked, his breathing heavy, body already covered in sweat from fucking Derek. Derek made a noise that resembled a rumble deep within his chest. “We need lube.” Derek walked them over towards the coffee table. He was able to squat, still holding onto Stiles, as Stiles bent enough to retrieve it, his ankles hooked as Derek held onto his thighs. “I’m going to just--” 

He slicked Derek’s cock with lube, foregoing stretching. He liked the pain, wanted to feel Derek’s cock stretch him out. Their mouths crashed together once more as Derek pressed his cock against Stiles’ entrance. He helped guide it in with a hand, his mouth hanging open at the stretch, the stinging pain that subsided as Derek began to thrust shallowly. Stiles moaned as he began moving, his hands in Derek’s hair as he bounced on Derek’s cock. Derek’s muscles strained beneath him, he could feel each movement as he rocked his hips. It didn’t take long for Derek to come, dribbling down Stiles’ thighs as he stilled within him. Stiles’ own cock was still spent, pressed up between them, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t enjoyed every second. Stiles kissed him as Derek pulled out of him, letting him down slowly. 

“Come on,” Stiles said, linking his fingers in Derek’s. “Let’s go take a shower.”


	6. Chapter 6

After showering together, cleaning each other off completely, and making out beneath the spray, they relaxed on Stiles’ couch, wearing nothing but sweatpants, eating the sandwiches Derek brought. They were curled up, with Stiles’ legs over Derek’s as he sat with his back pressed up against the arm of the couch. They had the TV on, with some do-it-yourself show on in the background even though Stiles wasn’t watching a second of it. Derek hadn’t stopped touching him after they fucked, using one hand to eat his sandwich while another slid along Stiles’ leg. 

He finished his sandwich first, then went about touching Derek as he turned his head towards the TV. His fingers trailed from Derek’s ear, down his neck slowly, to his nipple, then back up again. He settled on Derek’s neck, his forefinger brushing up and down idly as Derek began massaging Stiles’ feet, the touch never faltering. It was important after a scene to take care of one another. He needed the touch just as much as Derek did, it seemed.

Stiles kept his eye on the clock, dreading the time when Derek had to leave so he could get ready to go to Scott’s. Derek, too, seemed to sense Stiles’ anxiety. 

“This feels right,” Derek said after a while. Stiles tilted his head, not understanding his meaning. “Nothing has felt this right to me in a long time,” Derek confessed. “You feel like you belong, that I belong. It’s all very... visceral,” Derek landed on, his own eyes looking glassy as he said the words. “I can’t describe it.” 

“You don’t need to,” Stiles said as he sat up, using his hand around Derek’s neck to help pull him closer to Derek, their lips meeting chastely. “Seeing you completely gone in the swing-- as an alpha, you have a lot of trust in me.” 

“I’ve never trusted anyone with myself in the way that I trust you,” Derek said, looking the most vulnerable Stiles had seen him. “I’m with you in a way that I can’t be with my betas,” Derek said. “I can’t-- with you I can let go, share my wants.” 

“You can,” Stiles assured him, then sighed. “I have to go to Scott’s.” Derek nodded his head, his lips seeking out Stiles’ once more. It lingered, though Stiles wouldn’t allow it to continue. He had a hard time breaking away from Derek, the loss of touch hitting him like a punch to the gut as he stood up. 

“I’ll talk to Scott, tell him you want to meet, officially,” Stiles promised as he watched Derek grab his shirt and shoes. Derek was going to wear Stiles’ sweats home, to take them with him. 

“Let me know when, and I’ll be there. This is important to me.” 

“Me too,” Stiles said, kissing Derek one more time before he lead him downstairs to the door. 

-

Stiles was antsy as he stood in Scott’s kitchen, surrounded by his friends. Scott’s pack wasn’t conventional, with a werecoyote, kitsune, banshee, one werewolf, and humans, but it was still a pack nonetheless. Stiles, Lydia, and Allison had their own pack of beer they were sharing, while Scott showed off some of the beers that Derek had given him. 

It didn’t help matters that everyone kept looking at him oddly, because he had the smell of another alpha all over him. Stiles should have showered a few more times before coming over, but he’d spent the time curled up on the couch instead. 

“So, who is he?” Lydia asked conspiratorily. Stiles cast a glance around the apartment, where everyone was mostly in the living room. They could hear them either way, despite the hushed tones, so Stiles kept his mouth shut. “Oh come on, Stiles,” Lydia egged him on. 

“He’s the owner of that bar that Scott got his laced beer from,” Stiles said as he took a swig of his beer. “We’re dating.” 

“Dating?” Allison asked as she walked over. “I didn’t know you guys were that serious, Scott said you were messing around.” By then, all other conversation ceased. He’d really rather talk about it with Scott first, instead of in front of everyone. Stiles took a deep breath then nodded his head. 

“Dating, as in we’re exclusively seeing each other.” 

“But he’s an alpha?” Kira asked, looking at Scott. Stiles glanced at Scott, then back at Kira, shrugging a shoulder. “But--”

“Guys,” Scott said, putting a hand out to cease the discussion. “It’s Stiles’ life, and Derek’s a cool dude. Let’s toast to Stiles,” Scott said, lifting his beer. “For hooking up with the guy who provides me with free beer.” Stiles laughed, lifting his beer with his best friend. 

Thank god for the beer. 

The tension in the room dissipated slightly as Scott put his arm around Stiles, his nose scrunching up. 

“Don’t say anything about how I smell,” Stiles warned. 

“Did you even shower?” Scott asked, his voice low. 

“Yes, oh my god,” Stiles groaned. “Of course I showered.” 

“With him, though?” Kira asked, grimacing. Stiles rolled his eyes. “You did! Ah!” Kira said, covering her eyes, blushing. 

Otherwise, the dinner had gone well. Stiles veered conversation away from the topic of him and Derek, and thankfully everyone seemed willing to move on for the time being. They ended up playing board games, like they always did, getting tipsy in the process. By the time Stiles got home, his anxiety about letting his pack know about Derek had dwindled. 

-

With the weekend over, Stiles woke up the next day with a packed schedule. He made a full pot of coffee for himself to drink throughout the day as he worked on his projects, two of which he needed to send off as soon as possible. By the time Stiles stopped for lunch, it was almost three pm and the coffee was gone. Stretching, he made his way into the kitchen, the view of his loft showing off the swing that still hung in the middle of the living room. 

He grinned to himself as he opened the fridge in search for something easy to make. What surprised him was that the sandwich shop bag was still in the fridge, and it had something in it. There was another sandwich in there, left by Derek. Derek had bought him lunch and left it in the fridge for him. Stiles blushed as he took it out, inspecting it. He got out his phone, shooting Derek a text before he took the first bite. 

_You aren’t fair,_ was all it said. 

_How so?_ Derek asked back almost immediately. Instead of texting back and forth, which was hard to do as he ate, Stiles called Derek. 

“You left me food,” Stiles said as he sat on top of his counter, leg swinging and hitting the cupboard below. “Delicious food.” Derek laughed over the line. 

“You’re welcome,” Derek said. “Sometimes I eat two, but yeah.” Derek fell silent as Stiles chewed a bite. “How did last night go?” Derek asked. 

“Oh, it was awkward,” Stiles said truthfully. “The pack smelled you all over me and I need to talk to Scott, you know, before the three of us meet.” 

“Should we not have?” 

“Did I say we shouldn’t sleep together?” Stiles asked. “He’s not my keeper, it was just jarring, you know, me smelling like another alpha.” 

“Yeah,” Derek said, his voice quiet. “It’s hard, smelling him on you too.” 

“Is this going to be a problem?” Stiles asked. “I need to know if it is.” Derek hesitated in his answer. 

“We just need to talk to Scott,” Derek said. Stiles nodded his head even though he knew Derek couldn’t see him. “Sooner rather than later.” 

“Agreed,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I was just taking a break from work, I’ve been staring at a computer since eight. I think I’ll take the swing down before I get back to work.” 

“Do you have to?” Derek teased, his worried tone dissipating. 

“What if my dad decides to stop by?” Stiles asked. He quieted, then. He had to tell his dad he was in a relationship; yet another ‘meeting’ that had to happen. “I can’t have him finding my sex swing.” 

“That’s true.”

“That would be worst than that time he walked in on me in high school.” 

“Mortifying,” Derek said. “Try living in a house full of werewolves where you can hear everything, smell arousal.”

“Smell arousal-- how in depth can you do that? Scott never mentioned that.” 

“Scott is bitten, right? He might not be attuned to it-- I can smell in two different ways that is explainable to non-werewolves,” Derek said as Stiles put him on speaker so he could start putting up the swing. “I can smell your personal scent, what makes you, well, _you_. Then I can smell emotions, but in a sense that when you’re nervous, you sweat more, or get hard if aroused. If it’s a powerful emotion, it will linger in an area.”

“So, you’re telling me that when people find you attractive you automatically know.” 

“Yes,” Derek said. 

“That isn’t fair,” Stiles pouted. “So with me--”

“Oh, yeah,” Derek said. “Definitely.” 

Stiles grumbled. He really needed to take the swing down then get back to work, but he didn’t want to hang up just yet. 

“So tomorrow’s the full moon,” Stiles stated. 

“It is,” Derek said with a sigh. “That reminds me-- my uncle.” Stiles bit his lip, wondering if Peter said anything to Derek about the pictures. “I still haven’t talked to him.” Stiles deflated, but didn’t bring up the fact that Derek’s uncle creeped him out. 

“Avoiding the issue?” Stiles asked. 

“You know me so well already,” Derek said warmly. Stiles couldn’t help but smile as he got off his counter. “Yeah, I don’t know how to talk to him. He used to give me advice when I was a new alpha, and I just-- It’s a long story.”

“You can tell me sometime when we aren’t on the phone, if you want,” Stiles suggested. “I want to know more about you. I don’t know anything about your pack, really.” 

“I don’t know about yours, aside from Scott.” 

After Stiles hung up with Derek, which had lasted another thirty minutes while Stiles took down the sex swing, he begrudgingly got back to work. The full moon passed by without anything happening, because Stiles tended to stay inside those nights despite being part of the pack. By the time Thursday came around, Stiles was ready for a beer, and more than ready to see Derek. 

Of course, Cora was tending the bar. When Stiles and Scott entered together, she gave Stiles a once over, her eyebrow lifting as she handed Scott a beer, foregoing Stiles’. 

“Hey,” Stiles said with a pout, his shoulders sagging. “I was looking forward to that amazing Porter.” 

When Cora gave it to him, she held it back for a moment, forcing Stiles to reach across the bar in an attempt to grab it. 

“You break his heart I break your fingers,” she said as she set the beer down on the countertop. Stiles narrowed his eyes at her as he took the first sip of his draft. 

“He’s an alpha,” Stiles said flippantly. “He can handle himself.” Cora’s gaze didn’t let up. “Chill, Cora, I’m--” she broke out into a grin, and Stiles knew she was giving him a hard time. “You think you’re so funny,” Stiles said, wiping his mouth with his hand before turning his glass around and around, admiring the Blood Moon logo on it. 

“Hey are these new glasses?” Stiles asked. He’d never noticed the logo before. 

“Yeah, Derek just got them in. Pretty sweet, right?” Cora said, obviously proud of them. 

“Yeah,” Scott said. “It’s pretty legit.” 

Stiles tried to be inconspicuous by glancing at the door to the basement, but his sneaking was not up to par when there were werewolves tending the bar. 

“He said he’d be up once you got here,” Cora said, rolling her eyes. “Give him a few.” 

Stiles tried not to blush, his eyes reddening a bit as he nursed his beer and waited. Scott and he took over the dartboard in the back, wasting time until Derek appeared. He didn’t show his face until Stiles was almost done with his second beer. As Derek walked over to them, his hands in his back pockets, his gaze was solely on Stiles. Stiles turned his body towards Derek’s instinctively, seeking his touch as he reached out for him, tugging him closer by his belt loops. He smiled against the kiss, as brief as it was. When it ended, Derek looked to Scott, gauging his reaction. 

Scott was drinking his beer, watching as Derek put an arm around Stiles, his nose brushing across Stiles’ cheek before taking a deep breath. 

“We need to talk,” Derek said to Scott. 

“Yeah,” Scott said, frowning. “But not here.” 

“I agree,” Derek said. Stiles didn’t like how monosyllabic they were being considering they were friends, and Derek had an awesome bar with great beer, which is how they met. 

“You guys sound like you’re going to discuss a peace treaty, chill out,” Stiles said, knocking his shoulder into Derek’s torso. He gave him a look, his brow furrowed. “How about we meet for lunch tomorrow?” Stiles offered, looking to Scott for affirmation, his eyebrows now raised. Scott nodded his head, as did Derek. 

“We’ll meet at the marketplace,” Derek suggested. “So I can get back here quicker.” 

“Alright,” Scott said. “Noon?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, giving the two of them another calculating look. As he turned to Derek, Stiles was met with a kiss on the lips, and Derek pulling away.

“I have to get back to work,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ ear despite the fact that Scott could hear him. “I’ll talk to you later?” 

“Don’t go yet,” Stiles said, holding onto Derek’s shirt, keeping him in place. Derek looked to Scott again, then pressed his forehead against Stiles’, covering Stiles’ hand with his own to push it away in one swift movement. 

“Just call for me before you go.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said with a frown as he watched Derek make his way back behind the bar, where Cora was giving them a penetrating look. Stiles sighed as soon as Derek disappeared behind the door that lead down into the basement from behind the bar. When he turned to look at Scott, Scott was mid-sip. 

“Dude,” Stiles complained. Scott shrugged his shoulder as he worried at his own neck, scratching his hair. 

“I don’t know man, I get all posturing and shit around him now.” 

“Well don’t,” Stiles said, waving his hand around. “Scotty--”

“I know,” Scott said, giving Stiles the best impression of a hurt puppy that he could. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Stiles said, his voice as low as he could possibly manage. “But I’m in a relationship with him, okay?” 

“I know,” Scott said with a sigh, giving Stiles a lopsided smile. “You smell happy.” 

“Wow, invasive much dude?” Stiles said with a laugh. “But thanks, I am-- I’m happy.” 

-

Stiles was nervous. His leg shook as he waited at a table in the marketplace. He’d gotten there early just so he’d be the first to arrive, even got himself a coffee to bide the time before either Scott or Derek arrived. He’d gone down into the basement of Blood Moon before he left the night before in order to say goodnight to Derek, but that didn’t make him any less nervous about the talk they were about to have. He wasn’t sure how it was going to go. 

He couldn’t help but smile when Derek appeared, not wearing his work shirt, but a nice pair of slacks and a dark maroon Henley, obviously trying to make a good impression. Stiles’ heart soared as Derek got closer. Upon further inspection, Stiles saw that Derek had put a little bit of gel in his hair, slicking it back just a little bit, and had trimmed his beard. Stiles stood up as Derek approached, unable to stop himself from bringing Derek in for a kiss by grabbing hold of his neck. He even smelled amazing. 

“Oh, god,” Stiles said as Derek cupped his face in his hands. “You look so good right now.”

“It’s important,” Derek said as he took Stiles’ hand in his own as they both sat on the same side of a table, linking fingers. Stiles looked down at his hand, fingers intertwined with Derek’s, and believed everything would be okay. 

“I want this to work,” Stiles said, looking Derek in the eyes. “We have to compromise. Both packs.” 

“Both,” Derek agreed, nodding his head. Stiles gave a curt nod himself just as Scott walked in. Stiles let go of Derek’s hand so that Derek could stand. He shook Scott’s hand before they both sat down, then proceeded to stare silently at each other. 

“So, good talk,” Stiles said, clapping his hands together. He was so nervous, but tried not to let it show despite the fact that he was sitting with two werewolves that could not only smell his sweat and hear his heartbeat, but apparently could scent emotions, too. 

“Okay, Scott, Derek, we’re here to talk about the fact that I’m in one pack, but I’m dating an alpha in another.” 

“Right,” Scott said, his voice clipped. Derek down looked at the table. 

This was going to go absolutely like shit. 

“Scott, you first, concerns?” Stiles asked. Scott grimaced. 

“I just-- He’s my second,” Scott said imploringly. “I don’t want to lose him.” Stiles sat back, his gaze on Derek as he waited for a reply. 

“Stiles is human,” Derek said, his voice as low as it could go considering they were out in the open talking about werewolf business. “And I think that if he wants to be in two packs, then he can be.” 

Stiles was pleased with Derek’s answer. He gave his hand a reassuring squeeze beneath the table. 

“Well, yeah,” Scott said. “I’m not saying he can’t be in two. I’m only saying he’s my best friend and right now he smells like you, and it’s weird.” 

“What’s different about me smelling like Derek versus someone else I’ve slept with?” Stiles asked. “I’m being completely honest here, Scotty.” 

Scott took a moment before he answered, enough time that Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand back, his thumb brushing across his knuckles. 

“I think it’s because I know that it’s serious,” Scott said finally. “Like your scents are mingling. This isn’t some fun booty call situation, this is... real. Like what Allison and I have.” 

“I think so too,” Stiles said, giving Derek a look. 

“I’m not trying to take your second,” Derek said to Scott. “But my intention to scent Stiles is exactly as you said. I’m completely serious in the fact that I want him, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same way, though he doesn’t have the same urges that I do.” 

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Derek, his lip curling upwards at the insinuation. He coughed, breaking the obvious tension between the three of them. 

“Okay, so, here’s the deal,” Stiles said. “Derek and I are dating, just like you and Allison. I’m in your pack,” Stiles said as he pointed at Scott. “But I’m going to also be in his through dating him, but I won’t have a rank in his pack,” Stiles said, exchanging a look with Derek to make sure he was saying it right. “Except being only his significant other, is that okay?” 

“Yes,” Scott said, crossing his arms. 

“Also, you’re still his beer guinea pig,” Stiles said, knowing it would at least get a smile out of Scott. It worked, because Scott reached across the table to high five Derek. Derek lifted his hand, accepting said high five, then put his arm around the back of Stiles’ chair, leaning slightly against him. 

"So," Stiles said, exhaling with relief. "I think that went well. Who wants pizza?"

-

Stiles didn’t see Derek again until Sunday, which they both had off. He showed up at Derek’s around noon, as they’d discussed the night before. He went around the back to find not only Derek on the back porch, but with a pack member he hadn’t met yet. Derek was seated facing him, wearing a soft looking t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, while his pack member looked Stiles up and down. Thankfully, Peter wasn’t there. 

“Stiles, this is Isaac; Isaac, this is Stiles.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Stiles said, giving Isaac a handshake. Isaac gave him a once over, then seemed unimpressed. Stiles stood tall, his eyes narrowing at Isaac’s flippancy. 

“Isaac,” Derek said, clearly giving him an alpha voice. 

“Nice to meet you,” Isaac said as he stood. “I was just leaving.” 

Without another word, Isaac walked off, starting what sounded like a motorcycle before taking off down the gravel driveway. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh. That hadn’t gone well. 

“I just told him,” Derek said. “He’s not good with strangers.” 

“I can see that,” Stiles said as he walked closer. Derek pulled him down to sit on his lap. As soon as Stiles was there, he ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, tugging it hard enough that Derek grunted as he looked up at him. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Derek said licking his lips, his eyes closing as Stiles brushed his nose across Derek’s cheek, his mouth hovering over Derek’s. Stiles kissed him, breathing him in, his fingers carding through Derek’s hair. 

Stiles pushed away his doubts about Derek’s pack, about his inclusion in it based on Isaac’s reaction. Pack was important, and Stiles felt like he would fail to meet Derek’s pack’s standards. He didn’t want to disappoint them, but he refused to be someone he wasn’t, especially in front of Derek. 

“You okay?” Derek asked, his hand resting on Stiles’ lower back. Stiles looked down at Derek and smiled, kissing him again. 

“Haven’t seen you all week,” Stiles mumbled before burying his face against Derek’s neck, his fingers scratching at Derek’s stubble. Derek huffed a sigh, leaning into Stiles’ touch. 

“I know,” Derek said. “I’m not used to having someone-- the pack is rather self-sufficient. I’m sorry--”

Stiles stood up, shaking his head over and over as Derek stayed quiet, waiting. 

“No, that wasn’t me complaining,” Stiles assured him. “I’m just-- I just missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” Derek said with a warm smile. Stiles grinned back at him. “Still, I need to make more time. The brewery and my pack have been my life, and nothing else. Now you’re here. There needs to be space for you, too.” 

Stiles bit his lip as he trailed his hands across Derek’s chest, taking a deep breath as he nodded his head. 

“Same here, I’m not used to having someone,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he thought about his last serious relationship that had been in college. “I think you’re my first serious, adult relationship.” 

“Who said we were adults?” Derek joked. After a few moments of staring at each other, Derek leaned forward, capturing Stiles’ lips in a kiss. “Want me to make us some lunch? I haven’t eaten yet.” 

“What do you have in mind?” Stiles asked. 

“BLTs?” Derek suggested. 

“I’ll never, ever say no to bacon,” Stiles said as he tugged Derek to his feet. The TV was on in the background, one of the Storage War shows was on that Stiles could never tell the difference of, but he didn’t see anyone else. 

“Is your uncle still in town?” Stiles asked, hoping it wasn’t too suspicious. Stiles watched as Derek got out a pan to fry the bacon, then a cutting board for the lettuce and tomato. 

“He left yesterday,” Derek said, sounding relieved. “I’m glad he was here for the full moon, but him coming unannounced was odd.” 

“Glad to have your place back?” Stiles asked. 

“Definitely,” Derek said as he started cutting tomatoes.

“Do you want me to help?” Stiles asked. “I could watch the bacon.” 

“You can toast the bread,” Derek suggested. “Wait a few more minutes, until the bacon has had time to cook.” 

“Just tell me when and I’ll push that button down real good,” Stiles said with a wink, laughing. Derek laughed silently, his shoulders moving as he shook his head. It felt right, comfortable to be with Derek in his home, despite being there so few times before. 

They ate outside, lounging at the table as they looked out into the expansive woods behind Derek’s house. 

“Do you ever go running in the woods?” Stiles asked. Derek raised an eyebrow at him as he took a bite of his sandwich. “Come on, you probably do. You totally strip down and run naked in the woods to be free and be one with nature.”

“Not entirely,” Derek said after he swallowed his bite. “But you’re close.” 

“How close?” Stiles asked, leaning over in his chair. Derek looked as though he was smiling to himself as he contemplated his half eaten sandwich. When he looked back up at Stiles, his eyes were red. 

“I shift when I run.”

“But naked,” Stiles stated. Derek shrugged as he took another bite. 

“I have to be so I don’t rip my clothes,” Derek pointed out. “Full shift for me means that -- that I turn into a wolf,” Derek hesitated, like telling Stiles this was a big deal. By the look on his face, Stiles knew that what he just told him was important. 

“Can I see?” Stiles asked in a whisper. “Not now, but sometime. I bet you’re beautiful when you shift.” 

Apparently Stiles said the right thing, because Derek kissed him, his hands cupping Stiles’ face as he sucked on Stiles’ lower lip before pulling away. Stiles’ face reddened as he imagined Derek walking out into the woods, completely naked, then shifting into a wolf before his eyes. 

“I can show you,” Derek said, his nonchalance feigned, but Stiles was too excited to call him out on it. “We could go for a walk.” 

They finished their sandwiches, then cleaned up. Derek took his time doing the dishes, drying them by hand before putting them away. Stiles kissed him, dragging him to the door to keep him from stalling any further. Derek was still barefoot as he stepped out onto the deck and stretched his arms to the sky, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. 

Stiles grinned when he dropped his pants, stepping out of them. Derek turned to look at Stiles just as he began to shift into a wolf. Stiles’ heart skipped a beat at the sight before him, a massive wolf, bigger than any wolf Stiles had ever seen, not that it had been many. Derek came forward on all fours, his nose touching Stiles’ hand. Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s thick fur as he knelt down, looking Derek in the eyes. He had the same eyes, multi-colored and beautiful. Stiles buried his face against Derek’s fur, breathing him in. 

“Come on,” Stiles said as he stood up. “Let’s go for a walk.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note added tags! let me know if you feel like I've forgotten one. 
> 
> finally, finally I wrote something that I've wanted to write in fic for almost five years now, as long as I've been writing fanfic. And now... I have. /dances

According to Stiles’ hiking app on his phone, they had walked almost four miles by the time they made it back to Derek’s house. As soon as Derek’s feet were on the deck, he shifted back, stepping back into his pants. Now Stiles knew why Derek didn’t wear underwear. 

Derek reached his hand out for Stiles to take, their fingers linked as they walked together into the house, which was quiet with the late afternoon light filtering in through the windows. 

Stiles was about to crash on the couch by rolling over the back of it to land perfectly like he’d learned to do when he was a teenager when Derek pulled him towards the bedroom, his eyes flashing red as he grinned. 

“I like this better than a nap,” Stiles said conversationally as Derek shut the bedroom door, covering Stiles’ eyes with his hands as they walked towards the bed. Stiles held onto Derek’s wrists as he walked tentatively forward. 

“Not sure if I like being in the dark, though,” Stiles whispered. 

Derek kissed his ear, then opened his hands, revealing the room to Stiles. He’d seen it before, but there was one drastic change that hadn’t been there previously. Stiles licked his lips, which had dried out in mere moments due to the fact that there was a Saint Andrew’s Cross in Derek’s room; his _room_. Stiles pulled Derek’s hands down to his waist where he held them in place as Derek kissed down his neck. “Is this for you, or for me?” 

“I made it for you,” Derek said as his hands snaked beneath the fabric of Stiles’ shirt. Stiles made an indiscernible noise as Derek nipped at his earlobe. “To use on me.” Stiles smiled as he turned his head in time for Derek to kiss him. He twisted his body around as the kiss deepened. Stiles’ eyes widened when he computed what Derek had just said. 

“You made it?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes,” Derek said as he walked them closer to it. “I made it, for us.” 

“In what time?” Stiles asked with a laugh as Derek pushed him up against the wooden structure. Stiles groaned as Derek slid him up it, wrapping Stiles’ legs around his waist. 

“I don’t need much sleep,” Derek said with a shrug as he took Stiles’ fingers into his mouth, sucking on them for a moment. Stiles groaned as Derek left a trail of fanged kisses down his palm, to his wrist, and then his forearm. “What I need is for you to tie me up,” Derek said.

All the blood in Stiles’ brain seemed to rush south, because he couldn’t do anything except nod his head. Derek set Stiles back down, then showed Stiles a box of his own. Derek’s chest was heaving as he opened it up, looking down at its contents. 

“I’ve been thinking about what I wanted, for you and me. I want this, if you do.” 

Stiles picked up the small piece of ironwork, turning it over in his hands as his mouth dried out. He had to remember to swallow, licking his lips as he looked at Derek. 

“I’d like to, if you want to be locked,” Stiles said, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of Derek in a chastity device. “For today?” Derek nodded his head. “Do you want to start now? While I look at what else you have for me?” 

Stiles voice changed from the light banter they had out on the deck; it always did when he was about to have sex with Derek. He could feel his limbs growing heavier with each passing second as he watched Derek pick up the cock cage. Stiles tried not to watch as Derek stepped out of his pants to put it on. Instead, he looked down at the rest of the contents. There was a riding crop, a feather, a blindfold, and a pair of ear plugs. 

Derek wanted more than just not coming, not getting hard, he wanted sensory deprivation, wanted Stiles to _play_ with him while he couldn’t do anything. Stiles picked up the riding crop, holding it in his hand as he slapped it against his leg idly, looking up to gaze at Derek with his cock in it’s cage. Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away from it for a couple of seconds, but when he did, the look on Derek’s face told him everything. Derek’s abs twitched as Stiles traced them with the riding crop, then back down, holding it near his groin. 

“Before we start,” Stiles said, his voice raspy and breathy as he stepped forward. “I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 

Derek put the key to the cock cage in Stiles’ hand, closing his fingers. Stiles could feel it digging into the palm of his hand as Derek stepped closer, kissing Stiles on his cheek, his nose, finishing with a chaste kiss on his lips. It was Stiles who deepened it, his tongue pressing against Derek’s closed lips. Derek opened his mouth readily for Stiles. He hadn’t meant to get carried away kissing Derek, but it always seemed to happen. 

Stiles pulled away, his fingers tugging at Derek’s hair as he looked him in the eye. Derek stood there, his pupils blown, mouth hanging open with heavily lidded eyes, head tilted back. 

“I want you to tie me up so I can’t touch you,” Derek said, his hands sliding slowly up Stiles’ torso, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he closed his eyes to continue his list of wants. “I want you to blindfold me, so I can’t see what you’re going to do next. I want you to make it so my hearing is impaired, so I can’t hear your heartbeat. I only want to feel.” 

Stiles kissed Derek again, gasping for breath as he pulled away. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, breathless. “Okay.” 

He helped strap Derek into the wooden cross-like structure, then set the key Derek had given him down on the nightstand. The lighting in the room was already low, but Stiles ended up turning off the lamp that was on the opposite side of the bed, making it even dimmer in the room. Once Derek was tied up and the blindfold in place, Derek stopped Stiles before he plugged his ears. 

“There is a candle in the box,” Derek said. For a moment, Stiles thought Derek wanted him to pour wax on him. “I want you to light it, and place it by the nightstand.” 

“What is it?” Stiles asked, sniffing it. It didn’t smell like anything to him. 

“It’s a mixture made by an emissary,” Derek explained. “If you burn it, I won’t be able to smell anything.” 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked hesitantly. He took note of the lighter in the box as well; clearly Derek had thought this through.

“Yes,” Derek said, his chest heaving. Stiles nodded his head despite the fact that Derek couldn’t see him. He lit the candle, wafting it towards Derek with his hand a few times before he stepped in front of him, ear plugs at the ready. 

“If you want to tap out, snap your fingers three times,” Stiles said. “Or just say ‘red’. I’m not covering your mouth.” 

“Okay,” Derek said. Stiles gave him a reassuring kiss as he gently eased the ear plugs into Derek’s ears, effectively dulling his hearing. Stiles placed his hand over Derek’s chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he continued to kiss him. Stiles watched Derek react as he stepped away, breaking all contact. Derek stood still for a while, his jaw clenching as Stiles walked back towards the box, keeping his eye on Derek as he thought about his options.

He picked up the feather first, but set it back down, picking up the discarded riding crop. 

Stiles wasn’t doing anything except dragging it up and down Derek’s stomach, but it had him shuddering, his toes curling. Carefully, Stiles smacked him on the side of his torso. The reddened area quickly faded, but Derek jumped all the same, letting out a low groan. 

Stiles almost asked what color Derek was at, just to check, but the ear plugs. 

“Color?” Stiles asked, a little louder than he normally would, to see how much the plugs really worked. Derek said nothing at first, his face scrunched up in confusion. 

“Green,” Derek whispered. 

Stiles thwacked him again, this time on his thigh as he stepped forward, licking up Derek’s torso. Derek gasped, letting out a moan as Stiles raked his teeth over a nipple. Stiles could feel Derek’s muscles twitching, straining as he licked and sucked at his nipple, his teeth catching on the barbell piercing. 

Between finding out that Derek could shift into a wolf and realizing just _how much_ Derek wanted to be tied up, Stiles’ mind was reeling. He was hard in his pants, achingly so, but Derek came first. Well, taking care of Derek came first, because apparently Derek didn’t even want to come at all. 

This time when Stiles stepped away, Derek whined, an actual whine that was high pitched and made Stiles’ entire body throb. He picked up the feather, trailing it delicately across Derek’s neck, then ghosting it down his torso. Derek thrashed, and Stiles swore he shifted for a second before reeling back in. Stiles teased Derek’s lower stomach as he dropped to his knees, breathing hot air over Derek’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Derek groaned as Stiles slid the feather up and down his thigh. “Fuck!” Derek shouted as Stiles thwacked the riding crop unsuspectingly, right on his nipple. Derek hissed, his hips rocking towards him, but Stiles had already moved, no longer on his knees. 

“I’ll be right back,” Stiles said, louder than he needed to by Derek’s ear, his breath hot against Derek’s skin. “Color?” 

“Green,” Derek said, his voice cracked as he hung his head. Stiles wanted to kiss him, but didn’t before he opened the door to Derek’s room and practically ran into the kitchen. He grabbed one ice cube out of the the freezer before running back, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

When he placed the ice cube on Derek’s nipple he shouted, his nipples hardening as claws appeared. Stiles was about to ask his color, when Derek grinned, his head falling, chin tucking against his chest as sweat dripped down his bare torso. 

Stiles licked up the bead of sweat, sucking at his nipple as he traced the ice around his abs, up to his shoulder. Stiles kissed Derek’s exposed neck, which made him shiver. 

When he was done, Stiles cupped Derek’s groin, completely soft and trapped in its cage as he kissed him on the lips. 

Derek thrust up against him, the whimper that escaped him making Stiles come in his jeans. Stiles stepped back, first blowing out the candle, then taking out the ear plugs. Derek’s chest was rising and falling rapidly as he lifted his head, nostrils flaring. When Stiles took off the blindfold, Derek squinted, eyes flashing red as he looked at Stiles, then down at his pants. 

“Let me down,” Derek said, his voice rough. 

Stiles did as Derek asked, his hands shaking as he undid the restraints. In one swift movement, Derek picked Stiles up and settled him down on the bed, his hands all over Stiles, face buried against Stiles’ crotch as he breathed him in. Stiles tugged his fingers through Derek’s hair as Derek sucked at the denim, making Stiles squirm. Derek undid Stiles’ jeans, licking him through his briefs before hooking his fingers around the cotton fabric, taking Stiles’ come covered cock into his mouth. Stiles cursed, his back arching as Derek lapped at him. 

“Do you want me to--”

“Not yet,” Derek said, nosing at the trail of hair that lead up to Stiles’ belly button. “Not yet.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, shoving his own hand through his hair as he tried to breathe properly. His own limbs felt like limp noodles, too heavy to move himself as Derek licked to his hearts content. Stiles, oversensitized, pushed Derek away from his cock. Not to be dissuaded, Derek kissed his way up Stiles’ chest. When they kissed, Stiles could taste his come on Derek’s tongue. 

“Can you unlock me now?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded his head, continuing to kiss Derek as he rolled up over onto his back so that he could reach for the key. Carefully, Stiles unlocked the cock cage and helped Derek out of it. “You like to watch me jack off, right?” Derek asked, alluding back to that first night they messed around. Stiles nodded his head as he watched as Derek began stroking himself. It didn’t take long for him to get hard as Stiles sat beside him on the bed. Derek fucked up into his own fist, the head of his cock appearing then disappearing into his fist. When he came, he angled his cock towards Stiles. His come landed on Stiles’ stomach and hand, where Derek then licked it up, pushing Stiles back against the mattress. 

After he was through cleaning up the mess, Derek pulled Stiles close, spooning him. Stiles’ eyes closed, and together they drifted off. 

-

Stiles woke up alone in bed. The door was closed, but Stiles could hear something on the other side of it; probably the TV, he surmised. Stiles took his time sitting up. Confused, he looked around the room. The Saint Andrews Cross was gone, as was the contents of the box. It hadn’t been small, and curiosity got the better of Stiles as he climbed out of the bed. There were a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on the chair by the door that Stiles slipped on, since his clothes were also missing. 

He emerged from the bedroom to find that the noise hadn’t been, in fact, from the TV, but from company. Derek wasn’t alone in the living room, _his pack_ was there. All eyes were on Stiles and he couldn’t help but feel exposed, wearing Derek’s clothes, smelling of Derek’s come and his own. His eyes landed on right on Derek, and the heady look Derek was giving him reminded Stiles that he was Derek’s boyfriend, and that he was allowed to smell like this, like _them_. 

“I didn’t miss anything, did I?” Stiles asked, breaking the ice. 

“No,” Derek said, stepping forward and putting his arm around Stiles, kissing his forehead. “You haven’t.” 

“I didn’t know tonight was a pack night,” Stiles said in a whisper that meant nothing to a room full of werewolves. 

“It wasn’t,” Erica spoke up as she looked Stiles up and down. “We wanted to surprise you both.” She smirked, and Stiles was suddenly grateful that the Saint Andrews Cross was gone from Derek’s room since he’d left the door open. 

“Stiles, I think you know everyone,” Derek said. “You met Isaac earlier,” Derek indicated. “You know Boyd from the bar, Erica, and Cora.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, waving at them as he put his other hand around Derek’s waist. Derek was fully dressed, his hair wet, having obviously gotten some sort of heads up. Stiles looked at the clock forlornly: he’d wanted to spend the evening curled up on the couch next to Derek, not be sociable to Derek’s betas. 

“We brought food,” Cora said, giving Stiles a sad, puppy look. “From the Tupalo Honey Cafe. Figured you’d like some good southern cooking.” 

They all sat around the couch, digging into the sheer ton of food that they brought. Stiles had his share of the best mac and cheese he’d ever had, fried green tomatoes, real corn bread that was actually moist, and fried chicken that tasted absolutely nothing like KFC. He was stuffed, leaning back against Derek’s legs as he sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him. 

When they were done eating, Stiles busied himself by cleaning up. Cora joined him in the kitchen while the others decided on a movie to watch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cora crook her finger at him, indicating for Stiles to follow her outside. The evening air was cool against his warm skin, the wind blowing his shirt around, which was clearly too big for him. Cora’s nose scrunched up at the smell, but Stiles crossed his arms, his face firm. He would not apologize for smelling like Derek when the pack had _surprised them_. 

“We’re here because...” Cora began, her face as resolute as Stiles’. “If Derek had made it an official meeting, he’d have dressed up and made it this huge affair, because that’s what he does. We wanted to meet you as yourself, and we want you to get to know us as us, not as his betas who just so happen to be dressed nicely as we sip wine and munch on tiny appetizers.” 

“He knew you were coming, though,” Stiles pointed out. “He got to shower.” 

“If you think a shower got rid of your scent on him, you don’t know as much as you think you do about werewolves.” Stiles made a face at her. “But if you want to shower before the movie, then do it. We won’t say anything, and I’m sure Derek wouldn’t mind-- he’d probably love it.” 

“Oh, I know he would,” Stiles laughed. He looked out towards the woods, watching the sun disappear behind the trees. 

Before they went inside, Cora whispered in his ear, “We’d rather you smell like sex and Derek, than Derek and another alpha.” 

\--

Monday was very, well, _Monday_. Stiles had an assignment due that he worked on all morning, then sent off two more before the end of the day. He’d stayed at Derek’s the night before through two movies before he decided to head home, the pack remaining in their comfortable positions while Derek had walked him out to his car. 

Stiles didn’t have any plans for when he was done for the day, so he went for a run through downtown Beacon Hills, lapping it three times before ending up home again. He showered quickly, foregoing pants or a shirt, but instead pulling on a pair of briefs to lounge around in. He hadn’t checked his blog in a few days, his queue long enough that he could do that without anyone noticing he’d been too preoccupied to add to it. 

He started going through the messages, deleting pleas for his Kik and Snapchat usernames. 

“I don’t have it!” Stiles said forcefully as he clicked delete. “Stop asking me.” 

He stopped when he saw the submission from Peter. He’d been dreading it, hoping that Peter would back off now that he knew that Stiles was dating his _alpha_ , and nephew. Apparently, Stiles had no such luck. The picture was like the others, showing off his cock, a hand wrapped around it, though clawed instead of blunt nails. 

Stiles would have found it hot if it had been Derek, but considering who it was, Stiles found himself covering his mouth with his hand. Curiosity got the better of him as he scrolled down to read the caption.

 _Dear boy, I’m sorry that we could not have spent more time together while I was in town. To smell you was intoxicating, and I wanted to do nothing more than scent you myself. Next time I come to visit, I assure you, you’ll be satiated._

“What the fuck?” Stiles said, scandalized, deleting it. “‘Dear boy’ my _ass_ ,” Stiles mumbled. “You are _not_ fucking scenting me, you creep.” 

Stiles yanked on his hair as he groaned, frustrated. He would not engage in conversation. If he did, that would be playing right into Peter’s hands. He wanted Stiles to talk to him, and that was something Stiles wouldn’t do. 

Instead, Stiles set up his camera and tripod, utilizing his bed, a dildo, and his briefs. Once more, his face was hidden as he fucked himself with the dildo, taking picture after picture. He thought of Derek as he jacked off, showing his length to the camera by pressing it against his palm so it pointed towards the ceiling, precome dripping down his shaft while the dildo was inside of him, plugging him up. 

That gave him an idea. He discarded the dildo in the sink, so he could wash it when he was done, only to grab his box of toys, one of them, and pull out a plug, bigger than the dildo had been. Artistically, Stiles held the dildo out in front of his face, snapping a picture of it, his hand and arm all that could be seen of him in the picture besides the plug itself, the rest of him would be fuzzy. 

He checked the screen just to make sure it had come out how he wanted it to before continuing on. Using lube, he filled himself up with the plug, stretching himself out. He moaned, his back arching as the pressure didn’t fade. With his legs bent to the side, his back against his bed, chin tilted up to expose his neck, he took the picture. 

The last one he took was a close up of his stomach, come splattered across it, his fingers splayed over the area. It was all for Derek. 

Stiles cleaned up his supplies before taking another quick shower, then set to work getting his photosets ready to go on his blog. He made them grayscale, because he found that more appealing, especially with this particular photoset. He made sure to send Derek the last one in a text after emailing it to himself. The file was huge, but he knew it was worth it. As soon as he’d sent it, the ellipses appeared that let Stiles know that Derek was typing a response. 

_I want to come over tonight_ , Derek responded, not mentioning the photo. The corner of Stiles’ mouth lifted as he saw that Derek was still typing. He waited to type back, to see what Derek was going to say. _I want to make that photo my home screen, but Cora steals my phone sometimes._ Stiles snorted back his laughter as warmth coursed through his body at Derek’s bluntness about the photo. _It’s beautiful_. 

_I want you to come over tonight_ , Stiles answered. _What time do you get off?_

_I can be there at seven, but I need to shower before coming over._

_Deal_ , Stiles typed back. He couldn’t wait.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you feel as though I've forgotten a tag! thanks guys!   
> next update will be on Saturday!

At five after seven, Derek knocked at the door. Stiles bounded down the stairs, a grin escaping him as he opened the door. Derek looked practically feral in the best way, as he wrapped his arms around Stiles, lifting him up and hooking his hands around Stiles’ thighs as Stiles swung the door shut, their lips crashing together. Stiles’ tongue darted across Derek’s lips, pressing inwards to find fangs instead of blunt teeth. He let out a groan as Derek began to ascend the stairs, carrying Stiles the whole way. When they got to the top of the stairs, Stiles slid down, his feet landing on the floor. 

“I saw the others, on your blog,” Derek said, his voice like gravel. “I had to jack off before I came over.” Stiles kissed him, his hand on the back of Derek’s neck. He loved how much he affected Derek, that even though Derek was about to see Stiles, he had to masturbate because of his photos. 

“I’m glad you like them,” Stiles whispered in Derek’s ear before he nipped at it. 

“I like the one with your exposed your neck.” Stiles hummed as he nodded his head, allowing Derek’s hands to roam all over his body as his stubble dragged harshly over his exposed neck. “Was that for me?” 

“Yes,” Stiles said as he tugged at Derek’s shirt. 

“I couldn’t wait to see you. We didn’t get the time together I wanted yesterday,” Derek said. 

“That’s okay,” Stiles said as he kissed Derek lightly on the lips as he pulled him towards the couch. “We have tonight.” 

They sat down, their mouths crashing together once again as Derek pressed Stiles down against the cushions. Stiles let him, knowing how much Derek was already keyed up. As Derek palmed at Stiles’ groin, though, Stiles slowed, turning his head to breathe, licking his lips. 

“I wanted to do something before we fuck,” Stiles said as he sat up. He looked pointedly at the coffee table, where two packets sat. 

“What’s this-- oh,” Derek said, intrigued as he reached for one of the packets. It was a BDSM checklist. Stiles grabbed his own, and a pen as he curled up next to Derek. 

“I think it would be good to have, you know, just to see what our hard limits and soft limits are. I tweaked this one to cater towards us as a couple, adding in some werewolf kinks,” Stiles said, biting his lip. Derek nodded his head as he read it over. “It will be fun to go over... together.” 

“Yeah,” Derek breathed out, his eyes widening for a second as he got towards the bottom of the packet. He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes fixated. 

“Do we want coffee while we fill it out?” Stiles asked. 

“Yes, please,” Derek said. Stiles leaned over, kissing Derek’s cheek as he got up, setting his packet down. 

“Don’t start yet!” Stiles called out. He watched Derek from the kitchen, gauging his interest in page three. Derek was still staring down at it, his breathing stilted. As Stiles sat back down with two coffees in hand, he leaned against Derek so they could be cuddling as they filled it out. 

“Okay, so the point is to be completely honest,” Stiles said. “There are checkboxes with numerical choices with zero meaning it’s a hard limit and five being a turn on. This is a no judgement zone, okay?” 

“Got it,” Derek said with a small smile. “I’ve filled one of these out before,” Derek said. 

“Oh, great, then I’ll stop explaining,” Stiles said with ease. “Put the date on it, so if we ever want to redo the list, we can see what has changed.” 

“Good idea,” Derek said. The two of them fell silent as they filled it out. Stiles separated the list into categories: bondage, dominance and submission, sex, then fetishes. He had the original doc on his computer that he’d found online, but he tweaked it for him and Derek, since there was nothing about scenting and knotting on the normal checklists, among other things. 

Stiles sipped at his coffee as he went down the checklist, filling in his answers. Derek took his time beside Stiles, reading each kink carefully before picking his numerical choice. Stiles finished before Derek, blowing through his own packet quickly. He rest his head on Derek’s shoulder, eyes closing as he waited for Derek to finish. 

“Okay,” Derek said finally, resting his hand on Stiles’ knee and squeezing it. Stiles opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. He’d fallen asleep, but not for too long. He smiled sleepily at Derek as he stretched his arms over his head. 

“Ready to go over it?” Stiles asked. 

“Yeah,” Derek said, leaning forward, his eyes on Stiles’ lips. Stiles closed his eyes as Derek kissed him, his hands sliding up his torso, pulling him onto Derek’s lap. 

“Okay,” Stiles said. Stiles maneuvered himself on Derek’s lap so that he could read their checklists as Derek touched him. “First section, bondage.” Stiles skimmed it. “Bondage, light and heavy, a yes for both of us,” Stiles said looking at Derek with a heavy stare. He wondered how long they’d last just discussing this, or if they’d give up and fuck on his bed. “Yes to chastity belts.” Stiles kissed Derek after that. In a way, he was glad they waited to fill it out. He liked the surprise of Derek showing him the cock cage, about finding out Derek’s kink that way. But having it written down in front of him was an altogether different reaction, but still a positive one. “No collars,” Stiles said as he continued reading.

“No collars,” Derek repeated. 

“Yes to rope restraints, rope bondage, and Shibari,” Stiles said with relief. “But you have them as twos.” 

“Only you,” Derek said, his nose brushing against Stiles’ cheek as he breathed him in. Stiles skimmed down the list, most of the dominance and submission section full of ones and twos; they were more into bondage and Stiles was definitely into the masochism with a lot of fives in the sadism and masochism section. 

Stiles’ fives were beating (soft), hair pulling, and scratching, whereas Derek’s fell under blindfolds, nipple clamps, and sensory deprivation.

The last section was what Stiles was very interested in knowing about Derek. Derek’s arms tightened around Stiles, his eyes closing as Stiles read it out loud. 

“You have fives for everything that I added,” Stiles said with a sigh of relief. “Scenting, knotting, and beastiality.” Stiles’ breath caught in his throat as he licked his lips. “And you checked off ‘will do with current sex partner only’ on them.” 

“Yes,” Derek said as he slowly scented Stiles’ neck, his hands holding tightly onto Stiles, like he was about to lose control and needed Stiles’ scent to stay grounded. 

“For the last section,” Stiles said, his voice wavering, “I put fives as well.” 

Derek stopped moving, his hands stilling, his nose buried in the crook of Stiles’ neck. Stiles put down the checklist, taking Derek’s face in his hands so he could look him in the eyes. 

“Tell me what you want,” Stiles said, his voice hushed. Derek took his time answering. 

“I want you-- I want to give you what you need,” Derek said, which wasn’t what Stiles had been going for, weren’t the words he thought that with the reveal that Derek would ask for. “I want to mark you, and claim you.” 

The thought alone had Stiles shuddering in Derek’s lap as he nodded his head, his fingers carding through Derek’s hair. 

“You take care of me, give me what I need; I want to do the same for you. Last time... last time you tapped out, and I want another chance. You haven’t given me another chance.” 

“I didn’t know-- I didn’t realize you felt like I hadn’t given you the chance, Derek,” Stiles confessed. “That’s my fault,” he said as his thumbs scratched their way through Derek’s stubble. “You made me come in my pants,” he laughed as he pressed his forehead against Derek’s. “I think you’ve been giving me what I need.” 

“Can I have you beneath me again?” Derek asked. “I want to-- if you want, I want to claim you.” 

“Do you want to knot me?” Stiles asked, his chest constricting. He’d never been knotted before, since only born werewolf alphas had a knot, and they only knotted, supposedly, with their ‘mates’, or those who they saw themselves with for a long period of time. Derek nodded his head as he kissed Stiles. The kiss itself was lewd, messy, and mostly tongue. 

“I want to knot you,” Derek said. “I want to be linked to you, Stiles. You’ve-- I can’t keep my hands off of you, I can’t _think_ when I’m around you,” Derek confessed, kissing Stiles as he held him around the waist, standing up and taking Stiles with him. Stiles would never, ever get used to being picked up like he was a child again. It was like he weighed nothing as Derek moved them over towards his bed. “I’m yours, and I want you to be _mine_.” 

“I’m yours, too” Stiles said as Derek pushed him down onto the bed, laying his body out on top of Stiles’, pinning him down. Stiles struggled against him, because he wanted Derek to use more force. 

“I’m yours and I want you to claim me,” Stiles breathed heavily. “Fuck me, knot me.” 

Derek whimpered as he discarded Stiles’ shirt, his face burying itself into Stiles’ armpit, licking and sucking. 

“Wait,” Stiles panted. “Wait, I have-- I have something for you,” he said. Derek rolled off of him, sitting up as Stiles got off the bed. He was hard already, and needed to breathe, but he knew that after reading their checklist, that he had something that Derek would enjoy, a lot. He got out one of his bins, pulling out nipple clamps. As he climbed back onto the bed, on his knees, Derek’s eyes were red, his claws out. 

“Do you want these?” Stiles asked. 

“For me, or for you?” Derek asked. 

“You, me -- either,” Stiles said truthfully. Derek took his shirt off, tossing it into a small pile by the bed. Stiles scooted forward, leaning over as he sucked at Derek’s nipple, teasing it before clamping it with one of the small, metal clamps that were connected by a metal chain. Derek hissed as it pinched him. After Stiles applied the second one, he took a moment to sit back and admire how Derek looked, his nipples clamped. Stiles reached out, tugging on the chain lightly, testing it. Derek growled, but not in anger. He was turned on, his mouth hanging open as he looked Stiles over. Stiles licked his lips as he undid his jeans, hooking his fingers around his briefs as well, ridding himself of his clothes, even his socks. This time when Derek laid on top of him, he held Stiles down by his jaw, arm draped over his throat. Stiles groaned, his hips rolling upwards seeking friction, his cock already hard. 

“You want me to stretch you enough for my knot?” Derek asked. “It’s big,” Derek whispered as his claws scratched up Stiles’ side, leaving welts, but not breaking the skin, the way Stiles liked it. 

“How big?” Stiles asked, shuddering. Derek made a fist and Stiles moaned as he nodded his head. 

“Yes, please,” Stiles said. “I need you to stretch me first.” Derek dragged his claw across Stiles’ nipple as he nipped a line down Stiles’ torso, leaving teeth marks. Knowing that Derek was an alpha, that one wrong move could essentially turn him, made Stiles harder, his cock twitching as it lay against his stomach. 

The lube was nearby, but Derek took his time, licking up and down Stiles’ body, completely covering him in his scent and saliva. By the time he finally breached Stiles with his fingers, Stiles was ready to come. 

“Come for me,” Derek urged him. “I know you need to, you’ll want to, trust me.” Stiles let his climax overcome him, his entire body convulsing with pleasure as he came with three fingers inside him. Derek swallowed him down, his mouth teasing Stiles through his orgasm. Stiles had his hands in Derek’s hair, tugging him up his body. They kissed, sharing Stiles’ come between them, the tangy taste lingering on Stiles’ tongue as Derek mouthed his way back down Stiles’ body. 

He was limp, relaxed as Derek added a fourth finger, fucking him open with lube easing the way. Stiles whimpered at the feel of Derek slipping his thumb in as well. Stiles breathed harshly. He was on his stomach, his legs spread for Derek. Derek bit at Stiles’ ass before giving it a slap with his free hand. Stiles groaned, his cock beginning to harden once more at the sting. It distracted him from the fact that he had five fingers inside of him, stretching him wide. Derek’s hand wasn’t in a fist, his thumb simply tucked against his palm, but the difference between four and five fingers was massive. Derek’s hand struck down on Stiles’ ass again, taking his thoughts away from the fingers in his ass. Stiles yelped, then ground his hips back against Derek’s fingers. 

“Derek,” Stiles panted. “Please.” 

“Have you had enough?” Derek asked, his teeth dragging over Stiles’ ass. Stiles shook his head as he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking himself as Derek’s hand landed across already reddened skin. Stiles jerked forward with a shout. Derek was strong, and he’d be feeling that on his ass for a while, might even have a bruise. His cock leaked precome, his thumb smearing it across the head. “I think you’re ready.” 

“Yes,” Stiles said, his voice broken. At the loss of Derek’s fingers inside of him, Stiles groaned. Derek flipped Stiles over onto his back, his limbs limp and pliable. Derek slid his hands up Stiles’ body until he had Stiles’ hands above his head, their fingers intertwined. Expertly, Derek began fucking into Stiles, holding onto nothing but Stiles’ hands as he slid inwards. Stiles panted beneath him, Derek’s pace unrepentant, just like he wanted. With each thrust, Stiles shouted, his mouth hanging open. Derek mouthed at his neck, kissed his forehead as he fucked him hard. Stiles sought after Derek’s mouth, though the kiss wasn’t more than Stiles’ open mouth moaning against Derek’s as he continued his hurried, rough thrusts. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said as Derek slowed, though his cock remained ever present within him. Derek stilled within him, squeezing Stiles’ hands. Stiles watched Derek’s eyes go from blue to red, his pupils blown so much that it was only a mere sliver of color. When Derek began thrusting again, Stiles could feel his knot as it grew within him at the base. Derek groaned, his eyes closing as he moved deeper inside him, rocking his hips against Stiles’ as he squirmed at the stretch. Derek hadn’t lied about the size of his knot, groaning as he felt Derek coming inside him, filling him up. 

Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, stroking him as he moved his hips slowly, fucking him through his orgasm. Derek hooked his other hand around Stiles’ neck, his forehead pressed against Stiles’ while Stiles held onto Derek’s wrist with one hand as he tugged on the nipple clamps with the other, making Derek thrust harder, the knot keeping him inside Stiles. As his thrusts slowed, Stiles nuzzled against him. Derek worked at bringing Stiles’ second orgasm out of him. Stiles jerked, overcome by the feel of Derek inside him, filling him up completely as he came onto his own stomach. Derek slid his fingers through the mess, licking it off of his fingers, his hips rolling every so often, reminding Stiles that the knot held them together, as if he would forget. 

“That was-- that is what I needed,” Stiles said tiredly. Derek kissed him, his body weight distributed across Stiles’ as he relaxed on top of him. 

“Me too,” Derek confessed as he gripped Stiles’ ass, then rolled them over so that Stiles was on top of him. “Sleep,” Derek said, his voice rough. “You won’t hurt me.” Stiles tucked his arms beneath Derek’s armpits, hugging him as Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, one across his back while the other cupped his ass, his fingers feeling his cock still buried inside him. Stiles didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep with Derek’s cock still in him, but as time passed, he felt himself drifting. 

\--

Stiles woke up comfortably, warm, with the feel of fur against his skin. He opened his eyes to find a wolf in his bed, or rather, Derek as a wolf in his bed, curled up sleeping beside him. Stiles reached out, running his fingers through Derek’s fur as he took in his surroundings. It was dark out, way past sundown, and there wasn’t many lights on in his loft. He thought about moving, but as he shifted his weight, he winced. He was sore, so sore from earlier. His legs felt heavy and his ass stung in more ways than one. Stiles moaned as he rolled over onto his back, trying to at least stretch out his legs. 

Derek shifted beside him, his eyes opening. He huffed, his legs moving slightly, but nothing more. Stiles continued running his fingers through Derek’s fur as he watched him. 

“Do you sleep as a wolf at home?” Stiles asked. “Instead of walking around naked at home, do you just walk around as a wolf?” Derek didn’t answer, but he did stretch out, his massive form taking up most of the bed. Stiles found the nipple clamps jumbled in the bed sheets, which were a mess of lube and come. It was then that Stiles felt the dried come between his legs. 

“Oh, god,” he said wincing as he sat up. “I need to shower.” Derek’s head lifted as he watched Stiles get to his knees. Stiles’ entire body flushed as Derek licked his lips, his snout stuck in the air. “Want to come with me?” Stiles asked. Derek woofed, jumping down from the bed and stretching properly before following Stiles into the bathroom. Stiles turned on the shower, catching his reflection in the mirror. He turned around, showing himself his ass, it was discolored and bruised where Derek had slapped him. He smiled to himself, then spread his cheek to the side, getting a look at his ass, red and dripping wet with come and lube. His breath caught in his throat when Derek padded forward, sniffing it, then giving Stiles a look as the room began to steam up. 

“You can lick me if you want,” Stiles said, unsure if his voice would work. He closed his eyes, holding onto the sink in front of him as he felt Derek’s, long wolf tongue lick up his cleft. He moaned, his head dropping at the feeling of the warm, rough tongue cleaning him. He collapsed to his elbow, knees shaking as he managed to breathe shallowly. “Fuck,” Stiles whispered as Derek’s tongue delved deeper. He was sensitive there, and Derek shifted as a wolf had his cock hanging heavy between his legs. Stiles turned around when he couldn’t handle anymore. 

When he did, Derek was there, shifted back and naked, his cock as hard as Stiles’. Stiles scrunched his eyebrows together as they kissed, his hands cupping Derek’s face desperately. Derek, too, couldn’t keep his hands off of Stiles as they walked towards the shower. Under the spray, they continued to kiss, rocking their hips against each other, rubbing their cocks against their stomachs. Stiles was so keyed up that he gasped as Derek wrapped his hand around the both of them, stroking them until they both came. They watched as the water cascaded down their bodies, cleaning them off. Stiles rest his head on Derek’s shoulder as he breathed heavily. 

“Jesus,” Stiles whispered. “I can’t-- you are amazing. That is exactly what I needed.” Derek smiled against him, his hands trailing down Stiles’ back. When they kissed again, Derek held Stiles in his arms. 

“You have no idea what it means to me-- you just let me-- god, Stiles, you drive me insane,” Derek mumbled, unable to still his hands. “I just claimed you and I thought that was the end all be all, and you just--”

“Derek,” Stiles said, knowing what Derek meant. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? I can’t brain anymore right now, I’m come drunk.” 

“Same,” Derek said. They washed each other off, the soap suds falling down their bodies onto the tiles below. They dried off afterwards, never out of reach. Stiles pulled on a pair of briefs as Derek used a pair of Stiles’ sweats. Together they stripped the sheets off the bed to replace them with new ones. Stiles started the laundry, only to fall onto the couch and right into Derek’s arms. It wasn’t until then that Stiles saw the clock, that it was in the middle of the night, almost four am. 

“What time do you have to leave?” Stiles asked. He was laying on top of Derek, his head on his chest, his limbs so heavy he didn’t want to move. 

“Eight,” Derek said, his fingers trailing over Stiles’ back. “Want to go back to bed?” 

“Yes, but that requires moving,” Stiles complained. “And I need to move the laundry over when it’s done.” 

“Come on,” Derek said, getting them both to their feet. “You can switch it over when we get up.” They crawled into bed, with Stiles laying down on his stomach. Derek straddled him, his hands kneading into Stiles’ back, making him relax. Stiles moaned, sinking further into his bed as Derek worked his muscles with his fingers slowly, down his arms and back, to his calves and feet. Stiles drifted to sleep to Derek’s touch and feather light kisses.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTN: Heyo-- if you are uncomfortable about stalker type tendencies, tread carefully with this chapter. (pertaining to Peter)
> 
> Also, I'm at WW Raleigh right now, so this chapter has NOT been completely beta'd, but I promised some people that I would post tonight... so I am! I'm on a borrowed computer because my computer screen is completely SOL CRACKED and I somehow have to figure out future posting-- but here is this one!
> 
> Next update will be on Thursday!

They fell into a semi-routine. Derek took off Sundays from the bar entirely after talking with his pack. Stiles and Scott spent Thursday nights there, just has they always had, while Derek tended bar; their tabs always waved. Stiles still went to Scott’s on Tuesdays, and Derek’s pack had a gathering Saturday afternoons before the bar opened that Stiles was invited to. It was easy, busy, keeping up with the weekly gatherings. Some days, Derek managed to meet him for lunch somewhere, but usually Derek was unreachable until at least 8pm or later. 

They split the time between their two places, usually opting to go to Stiles’ since he had more gear than Derek did. They went to the movies, out to dinner, to concerts in San Francisco, and even took a day trip to Disneyland. Stiles even had photographic evidence. 

So, on a Sunday night, while Stiles was helping Derek chop vegetables for a home made chili, it didn’t really surprise Stiles for Derek to ask him to join his pack during the Fall Solstice. 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, putting the knife he was cutting with down. “That’s kind of a big deal,” he stated. 

“I know,” Derek said as he browned the meat. 

“You haven’t even met my dad officially,” Stiles stated. 

“You don’t have to come, Stiles,” Derek said. “I don’t want to make things more difficult for you with Scott’s pack.” 

“It’s not about the pack,” Stiles said. “I mean, I’ll talk to Scott about it. His pack doesn’t celebrate them like you guys do, so it shouldn’t be a problem; I just don’t want your pack to think I shouldn’t be there.” 

“They won’t,” Derek said, leaning over and kissing Stiles on the cheek. 

“I do think we need to set up a time to meet my dad, though,” Stiles pointed out. “He keeps asking about you.” 

“Let’s set it up, then,” Derek said with ease. 

“It’s not that simple--” Stiles was frustrated, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he was frustrated with. “I want to make sure-- I’ve never brought anyone home for him to meet.” 

“You want to make sure that it won’t be a disaster?” Derek asked, leaning against the counter, his arms crossing. “Do you think it would be a disaster?” 

“I think that he’ll be worried, you’re an alpha, and he knows you are, and he knows Scott is, too. From the outside, I’m just worried he’ll not react right.”

“You can’t force people into reacting a certain way,” Derek said. “And we can talk to him, just like we talked to Scott. He’ll come around.” 

“Well, he sort of needed to, didn’t he? After you claimed me,” Stiles said with a wry grin. 

“I would have loved to see his face,” Derek murmured, pulling Stiles closer. Stiles laughed as Derek nipped at his earlobe. 

“Evil,” Stiles teased, turning his head to kiss Derek on the lips. “Hey, I have an idea,” Stiles said, unsure about how it would pan out. “What if you invite Scott’s pack to the Solstice.” Derek stilled as he thought about it, his jaw working as his lips pursed. “If you think it’s a bad idea, you don’t have to, but I’ve been reading about mingling packs, especially when two merge due to marriage---”

“This isn’t like that,” Derek stated. Stiles sighed, pinching his nose in frustration. 

“No, I know, this isn’t like intermarrying packs, but we’re in a committed relationship, and there is this strain between our packs. Maybe mingling will help settle that? I feel stretched thin between you two,” Stiles confessed. “Scott’s my best friend, and I want this to work.” 

Derek rest his head on Stiles’ shoulder, breathing him in. 

“Okay,” Derek said. 

“Okay?” Stiles asked, hopeful. 

“It’s a good idea,” Derek admitted. “I’ll ask Scott if his pack wants to join us.” 

“And I’ll ask my dad if he wants to have dinner next Sunday.” 

“Saturday,” Derek surmised. “Sunday is ours. I’ll take off Saturday night.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said with a smile, kissing Derek. “You’ll talk to Scott on Thursday?” 

“Yes,” Derek promised. 

-

Blood Moon was packed on Thursday, but Scott and Stiles at least had a standing table to perch at as they drank. Scott talked about he and Allison, about asking her to marry him. 

“I want to do something awesome, you know? But I don’t want it to be too cliche. I’m not going to put the ring in champagne or anything.” 

“Allison hates champagne,” Stiles pointed out. 

“Exactly,” Scott said as he slumped down onto the table, slowly spinning his glass of beer. “I want it to wow her.”

“I’m sure she’ll love anything you do, man,” Stiles said as he clapped Scott on the back. “She likes simple stuff, don’t think too hard or it _will_ be cliche and over the top.” 

“You’re right,” Scott groaned, then looked over at the bar. “Derek’s been staring at you the entire night,” he whispered. Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott as he took a sip of his beer. 

“He always does,” Stiles said. 

“No, but, like, more than normal. He’s been staring with intent.” 

“Well,” Stiles said with a shrug. “He’s got an idea.” 

“He does? Or you do?” Scott asked, his mouth turning downwards in a pout. 

“Both of us do,” Stiles surmised. Stiles turned to Derek, waving at him to come over. “He was waiting until later-- Derek!” 

Derek passed off his dish towel to Cora, then made his way over to them, practically stalking through the crowd towards their table. Stiles reached out for him, clutching Derek’s shirt in his hand when he got close enough. 

“Scott,” Derek said with a nod of his head. Scott nodded back, but lifted an eyebrow. 

“What’s up, dude?” Scott asked. “Stiles tells me you have an idea?” Derek gave Stiles a look, but his face remained impassive. Stiles couldn’t get over how defensive both he and Scott were around each other all the time; they’d been fine before he and Derek started dating. 

“I would like to extend you and your pack an invitation to join my pack at my home for the next full moon, to celebrate the Solstice.” 

Stiles watched Scott’s reaction, which was awe at first, his jaw hanging open. He quickly remedied it by shutting his mouth, his eyebrows skyrocketing as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Uh, that sounds great,” Scott said, looking between Stiles and Derek. Derek had his arm around Stiles’ shoulder. The gesture to an outsider, a human, would be casual, but to a werewolf it was a claim. Derek was asking as a formality. “My pack will be there.” 

Stiles beamed, turning his head towards Derek so he could kiss him. It was short, chaste, but the public display was enough to cement the deal. Their packs would mingle, and hopefully Stiles’ stress would diminish in regards to being in both packs. 

Derek extended his hand out to shake with Scott, the two of them nodding their heads again before Derek went back behind the counter. Once he was gone, Scott downed the rest of his drink. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Stiles mused as he did the same to his own. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Scott agreed. 

-

Stiles went over to his father’s early on Saturday to help get dinner ready. 

“I can cook, you know,” his father said from the kitchen table where he sat with his arms crossed. “I could do it before you did, and I did it all while you were in college--”

“I know,” Stiles said. “I know, but I want-- I need to do something with my hands,” Stiles said. He had his sleeves rolled up, his tattoos showing, as he battered the chicken, dipping it in breadcrumbs, then beaten eggs, then bread crumbs again. “I’m nervous.”

“I can see that,” his dad said. “This is a big deal, you having someone over.”

“You’re not helping,” Stiles said as he wiped at his face with his forearm. His nose itched. 

“Don’t worry about it,” his dad said with a wave of his hand. “It isn’t like I’ll be cleaning my guns or anything. I won’t threaten him with a shovel.” 

“Good,” Stiles said, completely serious. “We already have Scott hovering.”

“Scott’s hovering?” His dad asked, standing up. “Why would he be doing that?”

“I told you,” Stiles said with a sigh. He washed his hands, then began to fold the crescent rolls into shape. “It’s an alpha thing, you know. They get all posture-y when they’re near each other. We are having a joint Full Moon thing next week.” 

“Well that sounds like a step in the right direction,” his dad contemplated. “So you two are pretty serious, then? Mingling packs like that is rare unless--”

“Do not, under any circumstances drop the ‘M’ word, okay?” Stiles said, pointing a finger at his father. 

“Murder?” His dad asked with a smirk. 

“Marriage,” Stiles hissed, looking towards the door. “I accidentally mentioned intermarrying packs the other night and he got jumpy. We haven’t been dating that long, I don’t want to stress him out. I was just--- explaining why it would be good to mingle with Scott’s pack.” 

“Right,” his dad said as he leaned against the counter, watching Stiles finish up. The oven dinged, letting Stiles know it was preheated for the chicken. 

“So Scott is okay with this all, right? About you dating an Alpha?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he wiped his hands off on a towel. “We talked about it, about the Full Moon, too. He wants to try, too. It’s just tense. One of the first things Derek said to Scott was that he always welcomed peaceful packs, and I think this will solidify Beacon Hills more. It’s a neutral territory, with a lot of omegas and visiting packs due to the bar. We need stability, so...” 

“So you could be a bridge between the two, if all goes well.” 

“Yes,” Stiles said as he ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. The doorbell rang, startling both Stiles and his father from their conversation. “He’s here,” Stiles said, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll get the door.” 

Stiles rushed to the door, opening it to find Derek standing there, his beard trimmed and hair slicked back. Stiles smiled, glad that Derek found meeting his father important enough to warrant clean clothes and a shower beforehand. 

“Hey, come on in,” Stiles said, ushering Derek inside. His father was standing beside him. “Derek, this is my dad, dad, this is Derek.”

“You can call me John, son,” he said, extending his hand for Derek to shake. Stiles watched as Derek offered his own in return, as well as a bottle of whiskey. John looked it over, impressed with the gift. “Thank you, Derek. Come on in.” 

Derek and Stiles exchanged looks before the three of them walked into the living room. 

“Now, Stiles already hid all his old school pictures before you came over, but I’m sure we can find them for you.” 

“Dad,” Stiles whined, his face reddening. He turned to Derek, shaking his head. “I didn’t hide anything.” 

“Perfect,” Derek said with a smile. “Then I’d love to see you in school.” 

“Nope,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Those have all been burned.” 

“So, Derek,” John said as he went to pour himself a glass of the whiskey Derek brought him. “Stiles tells me you own a bar, for werewolves?” 

“I do,” Derek said, stepping forward, taking the glass that John offered him with a finger of whiskey in it. He looked down at it, his lips pursed. Stiles took it from him, winking as it took a sip. Derek smiled at him in return before continuing. “It’s not just for werewolves, but I sell my microbrews there, I lace them with wolfsbane so werewolves can feel the effects of alcohol the same as humans.” 

“Interesting,” his dad said. “And you have all the right permits?”

“Dad,” Stiles warned. 

“It’s an honest question!” 

“Yes, I have all the permits,” Derek answered, taking the glass back from Stiles and sipping it. The three of them remained in the living room, with Stiles running back and forth to the kitchen to check on the food. He’d made green bean casserole with the chicken, along with the rolls. 

Overall, his father didn’t pry too much, didn’t seem too judgemental considering Stiles was dating an alpha. 

“Now, you’re a Hale, as in one of the founding families of Beacon Hills, correct?” John asked Derek, hours later. Stiles had done the dishes as his dad grilled Derek, but even Stiles hadn’t realized Derek’s family had been in Beacon Hills for that long. 

“Yes, I’m of those Hales,” Derek said. “We’re in the town charter and everything.” 

“My condolences,” his father said with a tilt of his head. “That fire was the worst thing that happened in this town in a very long time.” 

“Fire?” Stiles asked. He hadn’t heard anything about a fire. 

“My family, all but Cora and my uncle, they died in a fire almost ten years ago,” Derek said, giving Stiles a look. “It’s why Beacon Hills is neutral, we used to hold the territory, but--” 

“I didn’t know,” Stiles said, his heart clenching. He hadn’t realized Derek had held something so huge from him. It hurt, but Stiles knew that it was up to Derek to tell him what he wanted, when he was ready. Stiles hadn’t seen photos of anyone he hadn’t met, but that made sense since they all probably burned. 

“You didn’t?” John asked. 

“We-- I don’t talk much about my family,” Derek said.

“I’m sorry for mentioning it,” his father said, obviously feeling bad about bringing it up. 

“It’s alright,” Derek said with a small smile. “I have my pack, my sister, my uncle. I have Stiles.” 

Stiles walked over, kissing the top of Derek’s head, placing his hand on the back of Derek’s neck. He had Stiles. 

Shortly after, they called it a night and Stiles walked Derek to the door, kissing him before saying good night. 

“If you give me an hour, I can be done here,” Stiles said, his hands on Derek’s biceps, squeezing them. “We could meet back at yours, or mine.” 

“Yeah,” Derek said, giving Stiles’ dad a look over Stiles’ shoulder. “I’ll come by in a bit. I need to clear my head.” Stiles nodded in understanding, kissing him again. 

“I’m sorry about that--”

“No, I should have told you earlier. We’ll talk about it tonight, or tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said. 

After Derek was gone, Stiles made his way back to the kitchen where his father was finishing up the dishes. 

“He’s a good man,” John said without looking at Stiles. “He cares about you.” 

“And I care about him,” Stiles said. 

“He looked like he wanted to have his hands all over you all night.”

“Dad,” Stiles said, elongating his name. 

“What? He did. That’s not a bad thing, you know, passion. Passion is important. Passion and stability, balance. You two have your heads on straight about it; that’s good to be grounded.” 

Stiles didn’t know what to say to that, except that he agreed. 

-

By the time Stiles pulled into his parking space at the loft, Derek was there waiting, leaning against his Camaro. As soon as Stiles shut the door to his Jeep, Derek pushed away from his car and wrapped Stiles in his arms, breathing him in. Stiles sought Derek’s mouth out with his own, his tongue delving inwards. 

They stood there in the parking lot, making out under the streetlamp, until Stiles ended it by pulling back on Derek’s hair. Derek groaned, his eyes closing as Stiles rubbed his fingers across Derek’s scalp. 

“My dad liked you,” Stiles said, his eyes on Derek’s lips as he licked his own. 

“I’m glad,” Derek whispered, kissing Stiles again. “Now if only Scott did.” 

“Scott likes you,” Stiles said, his brow furrowed as he pulled away from Derek enough to frown. “You know he does.” 

“He likes my beer,” Derek pointed out. “I fed him beer, and that’s why he likes me.” 

“Are you telling me that you offered him beer and showed us your basement to get into my pants?” Stiles asked with a smirk. Derek rolled his eyes, faux exasperated as Stiles kissed him again. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Derek admitted. 

“I knew it,” Stiles said, then bit down on Derek’s lower lip, sucking on it. “Come on, let’s go upstairs before the neighbors call us in for public indecency.” 

“Pretty sure I checked no on the exhibitionism,” Derek teased as Stiles pulled him towards the loft. 

“Which is weird, considering you run around the woods naked.” 

“There’s a thought,” Derek said with a laugh. “Us fucking in the woods.” 

“No, veto,” Stiles said as he stopped by the door to unlock it. “I do not want sticks up my ass, or poking me, or leaves-- no.” 

“Okay, then definitely no exhibitionsim.” 

“Deal,” Stiles said with a smile as they ascended the stairs. As they walked up them, Stiles in front, Derek grabbed onto his wrist, tugging him back, a growl deep in his throat. 

“What is it?” Stiles asked in a loud whisper, panic quickly rising. 

“Get behind me,” Derek said, forcing Stiles to do just that. They got to the top of the stairs, and Stiles turned on the lights. He covered his mouth with his hand in attempt to keep from gagging. There, on his hardwood floor, was a dead carcass of a deer. 

“What the fuck?” Stiles asked. “What the literal fuck is that doing here?” Stiles asked as Derek bent over, sniffing it. When Derek turned to look at Stiles, his eyes were glowing red. 

“Werewolf,” Derek said, his fangs elongated. “Someone has been in here.” 

“Who?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head, shifting back. 

“I can’t tell-- whoever it is knows how to mask their scent. They left this here for you, as a gift.” 

“This is a dead deer, Derek,” Stiles said, his voice rising. “In my locked apartment. That means-- that means someone was in here. We need to call my dad.” 

“I think you need to let me handle this,” Derek said, grabbing hold of Stiles’ wrist. Stiles was shaking as he nodded his head, his eyes looking towards the dead deer. “Pack a bag for me,” Derek said. “Grab what you need, but you’re not staying here, it isn’t safe.” Stiles nodded his head, concentrating on things that he needed. A change of clothes, or two, his laptop, deodorant, underwear, socks, his external hard drive, phone charger. 

When he got into the bathroom, he threw up. Luckily, it was in the toilet. Stiles had an idea who had broken in, but he didn’t want to voice it aloud in case it wasn’t true. Surely Derek would be able to scent his own uncle, if it were him. 

Stiles emerged from the bathroom after he rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash, then continued to grab his things. He pulled out his rubber bins, grabbing what he thought he might need, if they decided to have sex. 

He wasn’t sure he was in the mood, though.

He packed his camera and tripod, along with extra batteries. Lastly, he grabbed his pillow from his bed. 

The deer was gone by the time he was ready to leave. Derek had gotten rid of it, probably dumped it in the dumpster in the parking lot. Stiles waited for Derek to return, seated on the couch as he stared off, unable to cope with his loft being broken into somehow, only it was locked; the deadbolt had been locked. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’ attention. Stiles blinked, surprised to find Derek kneeling in front of him. “Come on, let’s go.” Derek helped Stiles to his feet, then picked up most of his things. Stiles had his camera bag and laptop bag, along with his pillow as they descended the stairs to the door. Stiles locked the door behind him, double checking that he deadbolted it, the little it would do. He felt violated. 

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Derek promised. Stiles nodded his head, looking up to the windows of his loft as they walked towards Derek’s car. 

At first, Stiles started walking towards his Jeep, but he changed course as soon as he saw that Derek was making his way towards the Camaro. Stiles wasn’t sure he should be driving, anyways. 

“I need to tell my dad,” Stiles said. “We tampered with a crime scene, Derek.”   
“Do you want your dad to know, want him to come in and question you? I can deal with this. There aren’t laws in place yet about werewolves, but if word gets out about this-- Stiles, werewolf society is still technically not on the map. We aren’t in the public eye--”

“Okay,” Stiles said, nodding his head. “You take care of it.” Derek kissed Stiles on the forehead. “But if something else happens, I’m going to tell him.” 

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Derek said as he packed Stiles’ things into the trunk of his car. 

Stiles was silent the entire way to Derek’s house. Thankfully when they arrived, it looked to be like they were alone. Derek handed Stiles the keys, then indicated for him to open the door. 

“I’ve got all of this, you go ahead in. No one’s here.” 

Stiles turned on all the lights when he walked into the back door, hanging the keys in their place before making his way straight into Derek’s room. He kicked off his shoes and crawled into the bed, burying his face against a pillow, letting Derek’s scent comfort him. 

He’d never had anyone leave him a dead animal carcass before, and inside his loft on top of it. Stiles shuddered as he heard Derek come into the room. dropping Stiles’ things. Derek sat at the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Stiles’ back. 

“Do you want to call Scott?” Derek asked. 

“Should I?” Stiles asked, rolling over so he could face Derek. Derek shrugged. 

“I don’t want to leave you, but I feel like someone should try to find a trail.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, nodding his head as he sat up. His hands were shaking as he got his phone out and managed to unlock it. 

“Here,” Derek said, his voice calming and smooth. “Let me talk to him.” 

Stiles fell back onto the mattress as Derek stood up and walked out into the living room to talk to Scott. He could hear him talking, but could make out the words as he laid there, staring up at the ceiling. Stiles didn’t even notice Derek sitting back down on the bed until he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair. 

“Scott is going to meet Isaac and Boyd at your place, he’s stopping by here first to get the keys.” 

“They could just break in,” Stiles said with a manic laugh, his emotions finally bubbling to the surface. “Since that seems to be easy as fuck, oh god,” Stiles said as he curled in on himself. Derek hushed him, his hand seeking out Stiles’. 

“Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise.” 

“I know,” Stiles said. “I just want tonight to be over.” 

Eventually, Scott came over to grab Stiles’ keys. He didn’t stay long before heading back to town. Derek stayed by Stiles’ side, crawling into bed and laying down, facing Stiles, their fingers linked together. 

Stiles slept, fitfully, and woke up with Derek’s arms around him, still dressed. His mouth was dry, his eyes puffy from crying even though he hadn’t remembered doing so. Stiles groaned as he stretched his limbs, making Derek stir. 

Derek huffed, pulling Stiles tighter against him when he tried to get up. 

“Coffee,” Stiles complained, trying to pry Derek’s hands off of him. At the mention of coffee, though, Derek relented, letting Stiles get up. He made his way to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee before going to the bathroom. 

He changed his clothes and brushed his teeth, already feeling better. It was early, but he was awake. Stiles decided to set up a workstation in Derek’s breakfast nook, since his office was a mess. Just as Stiles turned his computer on, Derek appeared freshly showered. 

“Are you going to the bar?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head as he grabbed a mug, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“No, I’m not leaving you,” Derek said, his voice still rough from sleep. 

“I’m okay, now,” Stiles stated as he opened his email. If he worked, then he wouldn’t think about the fact that his loft wasn’t safe. “You can go--”

“I’m not,” Derek stated, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Cora has the bar under control.” 

“And the brewery?” 

“Maybe we can go later, together.” 

“Derek,” Stiles said, his shoulders slumping. “You’re going to need to let me out of your sight at some point.” Derek’s jaw tightened as he looked away from Stiles. “Though your concern is endearingly hot.” 

“Is that a thing?” Derek asked, teasing. 

“Apparently,” Stiles smirked. “Did Scott find anything?” Stiles asked. “Where’s my phone.” 

“Let me get it,” Derek said, heading back into his bedroom. He returned with Stiles’ phone, handing it over without looking. 

Stiles unlocked his phone, then read the texts. 

_Hey dude, we looked around your place for signs of unknown werewolves, but we couldn’t pick up on anything. I scrubbed the floor, so there is no sign of deer to be found. Let me know if you need anything._

__“They didn’t find anything, but my place is cleaned up, so that’s good,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I need like, a werewolf proof lock. Do those exist?” Stiles asked._ _

__Derek frowned._ _

__“I don’t blame werewolves as a whole, you know that right? I lo-- you and Scott are two of the most important people to me. There are always going to be a select few who ruin shit for others--”_ _

__“I know that, Stiles,” Derek said as he paced. “But you shouldn’t feel threatened by us. We aren’t killers, inherently. Just because-- I don’t want you to feel like you’re not safe around us, around me.”_ _

__“I feel safe,” Stiles said. “When I’m with you, I know I’m safe. But you can’t be with me all of the time.”_ _

__“So you can be with Scott,” Derek stated. Stiles rolled his eyes, to the chagrin of Derek._ _

__“I can take care of myself,” Stiles said. “I was thrown last night, I wasn’t expecting a fucking deer in my loft. Now, I can be careful.”_ _

__Derek watched him for a moment, like he wanted to keep talking, but he held back._ _

__“I’m going to do paperwork, I’m getting behind on it.”_ _

__“Okay,” Stiles said sipping his coffee. “Hey, maybe we can go to lunch together later? We never get to have lunch.”_ _

__“Sure,” Derek said, then disappeared into his office. Not five minutes later he emerged, walking over to Stiles and lifting his chin, kissing him._ _

__“It’s Sunday,” Derek said, his lips hovering over Stiles’. “Sunday means no work.” Stiles grinned. With the commotion he’d forgotten what day it was. It felt like ages since dinner with his dad, he’d just assumed somehow it was the work week._ _

__“No work,” Stiles murmured as Derek pulled him to his feet. “What do you want to do, then?” Stiles asked. Derek pulled Stiles against him, scenting him by rubbing his beard against Stiles’ neck._ _

__“Hmmm,” Stiles said as he shut his laptop. “I think I want to stay in,” Stiles said. “You have eggs, right?”_ _

__“Mmmhmm,” Derek said as he nodded his head, his nose trailing across Stiles’ cheek._ _

__“Toast?” Stiles asked._ _

__“Yes,” Derek answered, his hands roaming over Stiles’ body, but stopped at his ass, grabbing it. Stiles grunted, his fingers raking through Derek’s hair so he could tug on it._ _

__“Cinnamon?” Stiles asked hopefully._ _

__“I do have that,” Derek said, as he groaned, Stiles’ grip on his hair tightening._ _

__“Let’s make French Toast.”_ _

__“Deal,” Derek said as he kissed Stiles on the lips, making him forget, for a moment, about his problems._ _


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next update will be on Tuesday :)   
> Only four more chapters left!

After making a mess in the kitchen and eating their weight in French toast, they did the dishes together. Stiles hopped in the shower afterwards, alone, while Derek started laundry since it was his only day off. 

Instead of getting dressed when he got out, Stiles merely pulled on his sweatpants and an oversized shirt that was most certainly Derek’s. Stiles was ready for an afternoon of lounging around and cuddling on the couch with Derek, but apparently Derek’s pack had other plans. Stiles emerged from Derek’s bedroom to find Isaac and Boyd. 

At least Stiles was dressed. Originally he was going to walk out in his briefs. 

“Uh, hey guys,” Stiles said hesitantly. 

“We aren’t staying,” Boyd said, looking to Stiles then Derek. “But we found a trail.” Intrigued, Stiles walked forward to stand by Derek’s side. “It was by scenting emotion that we found it, a few blocks from Stiles’ loft.” 

“Where did it lead you?” Derek asked. 

“That’s the thing,” Isaac said, giving Boyd a knowing look. “It lead to Blood Moon. It could be any werewolf who goes to the bar. They could obviously mask their personal scent, but it’s harder to mask emotions.” 

“What emotion was it?” Stiles asked. 

“When we say emotion, that’s more of a general term. It was a predatory scent,” Boyd stated. “A feeling that is hard to put into words, but there’s no doubt that it is the same guy who put the deer in your place.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, hugging his arms around himself. “So maybe someone met me at the bar and-- took a liking to me? I don’t know. How do we stop this?” 

“Maybe you staying away for a while--”

“Bullshit,” Stiles said. “I’m not hiding in fear. I’m claimed, aren’t I?” Stiles asked him. “I’m an alpha’s significant other, and the best friend of another. Whoever this is picked the wrong human to fuck with.” Derek, Isaac, and Boyd exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised. “Right?” 

“Right,” Derek said with a firm nod. 

“I like this one,” Isaac pointed out. “He can stay.” 

For the first time, Stiles felt like he was welcome within Derek’s pack, and all it took was for him to stand up for him and Derek, to show that he wouldn’t be backed into a corner by another werewolf. 

“No wonder you like him,” Isaac said with a grin.

“You have no idea,” Derek said, putting a hand on Stiles’ lower back. 

-

Boyd and Isaac left, leaving Derek and Stiles alone at last. Stiles was on his computer again, answering emails while Derek flipped through the channels until he found something worth watching. 

“What do you usually do on days off?” Stiles asked. 

“Run,” Derek said, turning to look back at Stiles. “Have sex with you. You know, simple stuff.” 

Stiles laughed, then got up to join Derek on the couch, straddling him. 

“Is that your not so subtle way of saying you want to do a scene?” 

“Maybe,” Derek said, kissing Stiles. “Or just sitting here with you in my arms. That works, too.” 

“Hmm,” Stiles hummed. “We can go for a walk, or a run, if you want. Then we can do whatever you want.” 

“How about whatever _you_ want?” Derek asked. Stiles grinned, kissing Derek once more. “Run afterwards, scene now.” 

“Demanding,” Stiles said with a laugh. “How do you know you’ll have the energy?” 

“I’m not the one who usually passes out after we have sex,” Derek pointed out. Stiles pouted. “Hey, I like holding you after, it’s-- it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

“I’m far from perfect,” Stiles groused. “But I think your plan sounds like a good one. I brought some things with me, from my place.” 

“I know,” Derek said, leaving a trail of kisses down Stiles’ neck, his hands on Stiles’ ass, their favorite place to be, it seemed. “Want to show me what you brought?” 

“Rope,” Stiles said in a whisper. “Lots of rope.” 

“Want to tie me up?” Derek asked, one hand groping Stiles’ ass as the other ghosted up his torso until he grabbed onto Stiles’ jaw, his fingers spanning across his cheek and ear. “Want to photograph me?” 

“Yes,” Stiles breathed, his eyelids growing heavy at the thought. “That’s exactly what I want.” 

“I want nothing more than to do that, then,” Derek said, kissing him on the lips. Stiles moaned, deepening the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Derek, rocking his hips against him. Derek groaned, his fingers pressing between Stiles’ cheeks. 

“Come on,” Stiles said between a breathy moan. “Let’s get you naked.” Derek smirked beneath him, their mouths crashing together once more. Stiles pulled Derek to his feet, helping him undress. Stiles’ hand groped Derek, outlining his growing erection in his jeans as they kissed. As always, Derek revealed that he wasn’t wearing underwear. 

Once Derek’s clothes were discarded, Stiles took his time roaming over Derek’s body with his hands and mouth, tongue flicking across Derek’s nipples, teeth catching on his barbells. Derek grunted, his hand on Stiles’ head as he dropped to his knees, taking Derek into his mouth. Stiles moaned as he bobbed his head up and down, sucking at the head of Derek’s cock as his tongue teased his foreskin. Derek moaned, his head tilted back as Stiles fondled his balls. He wanted Derek to come first before he started, because he knew it would take him a while to tie Derek up the way he wanted. 

Stiles crooked a finger as he pressed it against Derek’s perineum, making Derek hiss as he came down Stiles’ throat, his fingers digging into Stiles’ scalp. 

“Jesus,” Derek said as he watched Stiles pop off, then lick at his head playfully before he got to his feet. Derek pulled Stiles towards him, their mouths crashing together. Stiles could feel the intensity building between them as Derek hoisted Stiles up by his ass so that his legs were wrapped around Derek’s waist, a move that Stiles knew Derek loved to do with him. 

“I’m gonna make you come again,” Stiles said against Derek’s lips. “I just wanted you to get a taste.” 

“You’re too good to me,” Derek said as his teeth nipped at Stiles’ earlobe. Stiles smiled to himself as Derek let him down, his feet landing softly on the hardwood floor. “Where are we doing this?”

“The living room has the best light,” Stiles said. “We just need more space.” 

They took a minute to rearrange the furniture, pushing the couch against the wall and moving the coffee table out of the way. 

“Do you want something to kneel on for your knees?” Stiles asked. The position he wanted Derek in wouldn’t be comfortable for an extended period of time without a mat. Derek raised his eyebrows in a way that told Stiles simply: I’m a werewolf. “Right,” Stiles said. “Then let me get my things. You should go to the bathroom, get water, anything you need before we start.” 

Derek went about doing just that while Stiles got out the rope and his camera, setting up the tripod and checking the light settings until Derek emerged from the bathroom. 

“Okay, so I want you on your knees,” Stiles said. Derek dropped down, his chin tucked against his chest with the light of the room shining down on him. Stiles took a picture before continuing. He grabbed the rope, his hands caressing the silky strands as he walked around him, his bare feet padding around the floor. Derek looked down at the ground, his hands at his sides. “Hands behind your back, forearms together, yes,” Stiles said as he watched Derek move, his hands by his elbows while his forearms touched. That’s where Stiles started, the rope wrapping around Derek’s arms. 

Shibari wasn’t just about bondage; it was art. Stiles took his time, stepping back every so often to look over Derek, his fingers trailing over his body. Derek didn’t say anything as he stared at nothingness, seemingly in a trance. 

Whenever Stiles asked how he was doing, Derek nodded his head, whispering a soft ‘Green’ in response. Stiles knew how the ropes would feel, how hypnotic it was. Shibari was about pressure points, as well, the feel of the rope wrapped around Derek restrictive but calming. Stiles watched carefully as Derek breathed evenly, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. Stiles tied knots in the rope as he went, wrapping it around Derek’s biceps. He made the rope into a cockring, tying it back and pulling the rope between Derek’s ass cheeks as he knotted it against Derek’s forearms. Derek grunted, his cock hard between his legs. 

When Stiles was done he needed a moment to stare at how beautiful Derek looked. Stiles was breathing heavily, sweating enough that he wanted to take his shirt off in order to cool off. He raked his fingers through Derek’s hair, allowing Derek to lean forward at the touch, nuzzling against Stiles’ palm. 

Stiles took a picture, using a clicker he had in his pocket. It would be of him looking down at Derek, bound, with his fingers in Derek’s hair. Stiles couldn’t wait to see it. He snapped another before he stepped away to check the light setting. He took the camera off the tripod, then knelt, taking a close up of Derek’s hands, his cock hanging down between his legs, wrapped in rope. Stiles grabbed a chair from the kitchen, taking a picture from a higher angle, Derek’s head still hanging low. 

Derek shifted, straining against the rope, letting out a low groan. 

“Color?” Stiles asked, worried about him as he stepped forward, touching Derek’s shoulder, letting him know he was right there. Derek leaned against the touch. 

“Green,” Derek said, seeking more touch. Stiles bit his lip as he knelt in front of him, kissing his forehead, then his nose. When he kissed Derek’s mouth, Derek moaned, his tongue delving hungrily into Stiles’ mouth. 

“You’re doing so well,” Stiles praised, kissing him again. “I’m almost done.” 

Derek didn’t say anything when Stiles stepped away from him, but the way that Derek rolled his shoulders let Stiles know that Derek was nearing his limit. Stiles snapped a few more pictures, then went to Derek, setting his camera down beside him as his hands roamed over Derek’s body. Derek sought the touch, craved it, his body shaking as Stiles pinched a nipple and mouthed at his shoulder and neck. Slowly, Stiles began undoing his knots, starting where he’d ended. 

With the rope discarded, Stiles helped Derek lie down on the floor, stretching out his limbs, moving his arms up and down as Stiles straddled him. Derek was still zoned out, his mind someplace else entirely as Stiles kissed a trail up Derek’s chest and neck, his hands massaging Derek’s arms. 

“Derek,” Stiles said eventually, his mouth hovering over Derek’s. “Come back to me.” 

Derek blinked his eyes, taking a deep breath, breathing in Stiles’ scent. When Derek’s eyes fell upon Stiles’ it was like the haze had been lifted. 

“There you are,” Stiles whispered. He had situated himself by Derek’s head, sitting cross-legged with Derek’s head in his lap as he massaged his scalp. Derek looked up at him, his lips parting as he reached up to Stiles’ face. “You were gone.” 

“Gone?” Derek asked, his voice catching in his throat. He needed water. The kitchen seemed so far, and as Derek brushed a finger across Stiles’ lips, Stiles knew he could wait a little longer before going to get him water. 

Stiles playfully bit at Derek’s finger, his hands moving from Derek’s scalp to his bearded cheeks, fingers scraping through the coarse hair. 

“You definitely went into subspace,” Stiles said softly. “You doing okay? Want water?” Though Derek licked his lips, he shook his head, hands holding onto Stiles’ wrists, his thumbs pressing against Stiles’ pulse points. “How did you like that scene?” 

Derek answered in a hum, his eyes closing. 

“I didn’t realize it was going to be that intense,” Derek said. “I just... let go.” 

“I love when you let go for me,” Stiles said, his hands rubbing down Derek’s chest, then sliding back up it, catching on his barbells. Derek groaned, arching his back as his own hands ghosted over the trail Stiles had just left on Derek’s chest and stomach. 

“Did you-- you need to--” 

“I don’t need anything,” Stiles said, contented. “I’m great.” He was glad he took pictures, because where there would normally be rope lines across one's body, Derek had none. He’d healed almost immediately after Stiles removed the ropes. He wished they would have stayed a little bit longer. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asked, concerned. “I’m worried about you.” 

Stiles hadn’t been thinking about his loft at all during the scene, his attention completely on Derek. At Derek’s reminder, Stiles felt as though he was punched in the gut. Stiles shook, his hands and body reacting physically. Derek moved with lightning speed, sitting up and wrapping Stiles up in his arms. 

“Come on,” Derek said, helping Stiles to his feet by way of basically carrying him over to the couch. Stiles moved without preamble. He’d used the scene as escapism, and it had worked, but the come down afterwards was hitting him hard. He was crashing. Stiles pulled his knees up towards his chest and covered his face with a hand as he tried to breathe properly. 

Derek was gone for a moment, returning with a glass of water. Stiles took it, gulping it down as he watched Derek do the same. When they were through, Derek pressed Stiles down against the couch, his legs stretched out so that Derek could lay on top of him. Derek began scenting him, touching him all over. Stiles panted, moaning as Derek’s claws dragged down his torso, his fanged mouth sucking at Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles moved against him, making small noises of encouragement as Derek grabbed hold of Stiles’ thighs, rolling his hips against Stiles’. Stiles was still completely clothed, and Derek’s erection pressed firmly against Stiles’ ass. Stiles let out a low whimper as he clutched at Derek’s neck and shoulder, bringing him closer so that they could kiss. Stiles bit down on Derek’s lower lip in appreciation. Derek was distracting him, which he sorely needed. 

Their kissing slowed as Derek moved back to scenting, to marking Stiles up with his mouth. He pushed Stiles’ shirt out of the way, marking him below his armpit, tugging at the hairs with his teeth, burying his nose against it, reveling in Stiles’ scent. 

“Derek,” Stiles said as he shifted beneath him. “I have to pee,” he said. Derek looked up at the clock, confused. “You’ve been licking me for an hour.” 

Derek let Stiles up and set out to follow him to the bathroom when Stiles put his hand on Derek’s chest, stopping him. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Are you--”

“I just have to piss,” Stiles said, kissing Derek on the lips. “How about lunch? Sandwiches?” Derek nodded, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair before scratching at his beard. 

“Alright,” he said, giving Stiles a look. 

Stiles shut the door behind him, peeing first before washing his hands and splashing water on his face. He looked into the mirror to find red welts up his sides, along with a number of new hickies, one high up on his neck. Stiles examined it, grinning. Derek knew how to make him feel better. 

Logically he knew that if he was with Derek, then he’d be okay. But he couldn’t be with Derek all the time, or with Scott. He had a job to do, as did Scott and Derek. It could have been a one time thing, or maybe Stiles need to make it more known that he was taken. 

It had to have been someone from his blog, a jealous werewolf. Deep down, Stiles knew it was Peter. He didn’t know how to tell Derek that, not without solid proof. All he had to go on was that he knew Peter’s hands, and Stiles had deleted all of the submissions and messages that Peter sent him. 

He’d have to wait until Peter sent him another one. 

Stiles emerged to find Derek seated on top of his island, wearing a pair of sweats, eating a sandwich. Beside him sat another one, for Stiles, and two Cokes already opened. Stiles took a sip greedily; the sugar would help him with his drop. He leaned against Derek as he bit into his sandwich. Derek put a hand on Stiles’ head. 

They balanced each other out so well, knew what the other needed. Derek craved scenting after a scene in his aftercare, whereas Stiles craved contact, and touch. It worked out well for them, and Stiles wanted nothing more than to curl up on Derek’s bed and take a nap with Derek’s arms safely around him. 

As if reading his mind, Derek lead Stiles into the bedroom, pulling him into bed. Stiles wrapped his arms and legs around Derek, facing him, as Derek did the same, their legs tangling together as they made themselves comfortable. 

-

When they woke up, Stiles got dressed to go on a hike with Derek. Derek bounded down the stairs of the deck and into his backyard on all fours, shifting as he ran. Stiles sat down on the steps in order to tie his shoes, but Derek was impatient as he jumped back and forth, his tail wagging as he yipped over and over until Stiles was ready to head off. He carried a water bottle with him, knowing they’d be gone awhile. 

They hiked their way through the woods, heading into the preserve that was nearby. Derek lead the way, but it was slow going because Stiles had to watch out for low lying branches while Derek didn’t. Stiles had no idea where they were, since there wasn’t even a trail. He liked when they came across deer trails, where deer had run through and already snapped small branches and made an easier trail for Stiles to walk through. 

Derek raised his nose in the air, scenting it as they continued on. The sun was still out, but it was heading back towards the horizon. Along with his water, Stiles had a flashlight clipped to his belt loop. It was a Maglite that had been in Derek’s miscellaneous drawer in his kitchen. 

He hoped that they’d be back at Derek’s house before he had to use it, though. 

“Let’s head back, Derek,” Stiles said as Derek trudged forward. Derek huffed, continuing on. Stiles couldn’t do anything but follow until they came across a clearing. It was a cliff face, where Stiles could see down across Beacon County. As dusk drew nearer, the lights of Beacon Hills grew brighter. Derek sat down by on a log where a tree had fallen, giving someone a perfect place to look down on Beacon Hills. Stiles sat by him, patting his head. 

“How romantic,” Stiles teased, leaning over so he could press his face against Derek’s fur. “Sunset over Beacon Hills.” Derek licked Stiles’ face as Stiles smiled. The walk back would be in the dark, but the sentiment was there. Stiles buried his fingers in Derek’s hair as Derek licked at Stiles’ neck, then woofed in contentment. 

Stiles let the sounds of the woods around him completely surround him as he listened to crickets chirping, the wind howling, and trees rustling. Derek’s ears twitched every so often as he listened as well. The sunset was beautiful, and Stiles wished he’d brought his camera, but the camera on his phone would have to do. As he sat, he uploaded the photo to Instagram, tagging Derek’s name in it. 

Once the sun was down, Stiles stood up and stretched his hands towards the sky, then held onto his ankle, stretching out his hamstrings before they started back. Stiles took out the Maglite, although small, the radius of light and power was enough that he could see easily. Derek stayed close by so that Stiles wouldn’t get lost. 

Derek stopped walking suddenly causing Stiles to nearly fall over almost running into him. Derek’s fur stood on end, his ears lying flat on his head as he let out a low growl. 

“What is it?” Stiles asked. The woods weren’t completely safe, considering it was a wildlife preserve, but he had an alpha with him. Derek’s growl grew louder as his stance stiffened. He was going to run. “What do I do?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide. Derek took off like a shot, leaving Stiles standing there in the woods. He knew he should stay and wait for Derek to come back, but he was left alone in the dark, and that was a scary thought. Stiles turned off the flashlight, hoping that would deter any animal from approaching him. 

When he heard wolves howling, Stiles began to panic. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Stiles said as he began walking by the light of the moon. The solstice was soon, so the moon was almost full. It wasn’t much light, but it kept from from running into a tree. He could hear growling and fighting somewhere not far off; Stiles hoped it was a normal animal and not another werewolf. 

Stiles tripped, hissing as he hit the ground with a thud. He took out his phone, about to call his dad when something appeared near him. Stiles held in a scream when he realized it was a wolf, its eyes glowing red in the darkness. 

“Derek?” Stiles asked, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t some other alpha that was going to kill him or bite him. Derek nodded his head as he stepped forward, nuzzling at Stiles’ cheek and licking it. Relieved, Stiles reached out his hand to pet Derek. He let out a gasp when his fingers ran through something sticky and warm. Even without light, Stiles knew what it was -- blood. “Are you okay?” Derek licked him again as Stiles got to his feet, turning the flashlight back on. Derek’s fur was matted with blood, as well as his muzzle, along with his paws. He’d clearly gotten into a bad fight. 

“Come on let’s get back.” Stiles jumped at each noise in the woods on the way back, but tried not to think about what animals would be lurking. As soon as he saw the light of Derek’s porch, he set out in a run once he reached the clearing. Stepping onto the deck gave him a stronger sense of security; he was safe. He took Derek’s keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door with surprisingly steady hands. “Stay here,” Stiles instructed as he rushed inside to grab a towel. Derek didn’t listen as he shifted, following Stiles inside and shutting the door. 

Derek, in the flesh now, was still covered in blood. He had a gash across his side that was dripping blood, but what was the most off-putting was the blood around Derek’s mouth. 

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles whispered as Derek walked into the kitchen, turning the faucet on, scrubbing his bloody hands clean. “Are you okay? What was that?” 

“Werewolf,” Derek said gruffly. “Omega.” 

“Was it the one who--”

“No, this one couldn’t mask his scent. That’s how I found him. He reeked.” 

“An omega who was a wolf?” 

“No, he wasn’t a wolf, he got me when I had him pinned down.” 

“How do you know he was hostile?” Stiles asked as he watched Derek’s wound slowly close up. He was almost healed already. Derek gave him a cold look. 

“I just know. He was hunting you. Some werewolves-- some keep to the old ways, most are omegas. They have this stench, the stench of death. His eyes were blue.” 

Stiles crossed his arms as he watched Derek scrub his face, spitting blood into the sink as he washed the blood out of his beard, reddened soap suds running down his forearms. 

“Blue eyes? What do blue eyes mean?” 

“It means they killed someone innocent,” Derek said, giving Stiles a warning look. “Most of the time, that means danger.” 

“Most?” Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged his shoulders at Stiles’ question. 

“There are always exceptions,” Derek said, then turned to face Stiles. “Before I was an alpha, my eyes were blue.” Stiles bit his lip, his arms crossed defensively. Derek was still naked, covered in dirt, but he no longer had blood on him. “I’m going to shower, then if you’ll let me, I’ll explain to you why.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, trying to control the beat of his heart. Derek just told him that he’s killed someone innocent. Derek was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to protect him from whatever broke into his house. Stiles hugged his arms closer as Derek walked past him and into the bathroom. Once the water was running, Stiles thought about leaving, only his car wasn’t there. 

Derek hadn’t hurt him, ever, without Stiles’ consent and he trusted Stiles. Stiles knew he needed to give Derek a chance to explain. He knew about Derek’s family’s untimely deaths, the fire that ravaged their house, but that wasn’t murder. 

Before he knew it, the water cut off and Derek emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, still dripping wet. He watched as Derek disappeared into his room, coming out a few minutes later fully dressed in a long-sleeved Henley and pair of jeans. Derek scratched at the back of his neck as he approached Stiles. 

“I half expected to find you and my car gone,” Derek attempted to joke. It fell flat, the tension in the room palpable. “I don’t like how you’re looking at me.” 

“Your eyes were blue?” Stiles asked as Derek took a step towards him. Stiles stepped away. Derek stilled, shrugging his shoulders as he looked at the ground. 

“I was a teenager,” Derek began, licking his lips. “I fell in love with a girl, her name was Paige. We-- she was my first everything, you know? She was my everything.” Stiles didn’t like how the story was heading, but he let Derek continue without interrupting him. Derek took a deep breath. “My uncle talked me into asking a visiting alpha to turn her. He told me that no one would want to be with me if they weren’t a werewolf as well. I had kept it a secret from her, about me being a werewolf. I believed him.” 

Stiles’ mind jumped to a million conclusions, but he let Derek keep talking. Derek began to pace as he did so, Stiles watching his every move. Derek made sure that he kept a safe distance from Stiles. 

“I changed my mind, I didn’t want her bitten because I loved her the way she was, and it was too late. I was too late, and the bite didn’t take. She was dying, and she begged me to end it.” 

Stiles was surprised at the emotion in Derek’s voice as it wavered. Derek wiped at his eyes, sniffled before continuing on. 

“She was young, she was strong, she should have survived it but she didn’t. I killed her because I loved her, and my eyes were blue because I couldn’t listen to her suffer.” Stiles rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Derek. “I was selfish, and I killed her.” 

“No,” Stiles said, pulling Derek towards the couch. “You thought it was the right decision,” Stiles said. 

“You’re afraid of me,” Derek said. “I can feel you trembling, your heart rate-- I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” 

“I’m not,” Stiles said. “You saved me in the woods. You took me out there for a little wolfy date and it was amazing, and then you saved me. You protected me last night, too. I’m not afraid of you, ” he promised.

Derek looked down at Stiles’ fingers that were linked with his own and let out a shaky breath. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Stiles said. “I know it has to be hard to talk about her.” 

“It is,” Derek said. “But she’s my past, and you’re here now, and I can’t treat you based on what happened to her.” 

“True,” Stiles whispered as he leaned in, kissing Derek chastely on the lips. Stiles rest his head against Derek’s shoulder, sitting there with him in silence.

“What a weekend,” Stiles said. Derek huffed out a short laugh as he nodded his head. 

“I need to call Boyd and Isaac, we have to take care of the body.”

“Just how many bodies have you guys had to ‘take care of’?” Stiles asked, articulating his words with air quotes. 

“Not as many as you think,” Derek laughed, kissing Stiles on the cheek. “Are you-- do you want to stay here tonight or go home?” 

“Here,” Stiles said, tugging at Derek’s shirt. “I’m not ready to go home yet and if I show up at my dad’s then he’s gonna know something’s up.” 

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.” 

“Oh really?” Stiles said with a small smirk. “Be careful what you wish for.” Derek smiled, kissing Stiles on the lips before reaching for his phone to call his betas. Derek walked out onto the deck to talk to them, leaving Stiles alone in the house with his own thoughts. 

He groaned into his hands as he sat with his feet up on the couch, his eyes wide as he thought about the last twenty-four hours. He laughed when he realized that the living room furniture hadn’t been put back to its original placement and the ropes they’d used earlier were still out on the floor. 

Stiles got up, happy to have something to keep him busy for the moment, picking up his ropes and pushing the furniture back in place. By the time Derek walked back inside, the living room was back to normal. 

“Wow,” Derek said, impressed, pulling Stiles close. “Look at you.” Stiles smiled as he put an arm around him. Derek pressed his lips against Stiles’ forehead, before kissing him lightly on the lips, breathing him in. 

“The guys are coming over. We’re going into the woods. Will you be okay, or do we need to call Scott?” 

“I’ll be okay,” Stiles said. “You don’t need to worry about me. Just hurry back.” 

“We’ll be quick,” Derek said, kissing Stiles again, cupping Stiles’ face with his hands.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are the best! thanks for reading/commenting etc <3

After spending two nights at Derek’s, Stiles decided to go home. Derek had wanted to go with him, but Stiles felt as though it was something he needed to do alone. Unlocking his door had been easy, but as he ascended the stairs, he felt his chest constrict. 

He stared at the spot on the floor for a long time, where blood should be, but there was no sign of any. They had cleaned up well. Stiles side-stepped around it, taking his time acclimate himself in his own space again. He put music on, a Pandora station that played electro-swing, a new type of music he’d discovered that he liked a lot. It’s drum and bass mixed with repetitiveness of swing music was perfect for keeping his attention. 

He cleaned his entire loft until he stopped, sitting cross-legged in his living room, staring at the spot on the floor. The clock in his kitchen told him that it was three in the morning, but the thought of bed alluded him. 

Instead, he moved on to cleaning his bathroom. 

When the sun began to rise and Stiles ran out of things to scrub down, he got out his toys. He hand washed what he could, then stacked the rest in his dishwasher for anything that was safe to do so. 

The knock at his door startled him. 

He dried his hands with a dish towel before bounding down the stairs, opening the door to find Derek standing there holding coffee and what looked like breakfast. Stiles smiled, unable to stop himself from relaxing at the sight of him. Despite staying up all night, he hadn’t realized how stressed he had been. 

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Derek said, concerned, as he followed Stiles up the stairs. Derek’s nose scrunched up as he reached the top of the stairs. “And it smells like bleach.” 

“I haven’t slept,” Stiles admitted, rubbing his hands against his jeans as he watched Derek set the food down on the counter. “And I cleaned...everything.” 

“I can see that,” Derek said, looking at the glass dildo on the drying rack. 

Stiles shrugged as he reached forward for the coffee. “I was just stopping by on my way to work, but--”

Derek put his hand over the coffee in Stiles’ own hand, forcing him to put it down on the table. 

“I think you need sleep more than you need coffee.” 

“I have deadlines,” Stiles said firmly. 

“I should have come here with you last night,” Derek said, chastising himself. “You shouldn’t have been alone.” 

“I don’t need to be coddled,” Stiles pointed out as Derek took Stiles’ hand in his own, tugging him towards the bed. “But the coffee--”

“Can be reheated,” Derek said as he ran his hands up and down Stiles’ biceps, massaging them as he leaned in, kissing Stiles on the lips. “Let me help you.” 

Stiles blinked blearily; he really _was_ tired. He looked back at the spot on the floor, but Derek took hold of his chin, bringing Stiles’ gaze to him. 

“I’m going to call in.” 

“No,” Stiles said, clutching at Derek’s shirt. “Derek, I’m fine--”

He wasn’t fine, though, because the thought of Derek leaving and going to the bar had him nearly in tears. Stiles blamed it on exhaustion as he sniffed loudly, trying to ignore the emotion. Derek kissed the corners of his eyes, tongue darting out to taste the tears. Stiles leaned into the contact, allowing Derek to push him down onto the bed. Stiles sat, watching as Derek knelt before him, taking off Stiles’ socks for him, taking his time by massaging his feet and his calves, before unbuttoning Stiles’ jeans. Stiles discarded his own shirt, then cupped Derek’s cheeks with his hands, bringing him in for a kiss. Derek shifted, pushing Stiles back against the mattress as he hovered over him, his hands worshipping at Stiles’ body as he mouthed at his neck and shoulder. Stiles squirmed beneath him as he felt his limbs becoming heavier with each passing second. Derek took Stiles’ arm in his hand, using his thumbs to press in against Stiles’ skin, applying pressure as he moved slowly to Stiles’ hand, massaging him everywhere. 

Stiles relaxed, his eyes closing as Derek moved to his other arm. Stiles felt like he was floating as Derek’s fingers pressed against Stiles’ shoulders right into the meat of his neck. Stiles groaned, his mouth parting as Derek’s lips ghosted across his cheeks. 

When Derek stopped moving, Stiles began to open his eyes, but Derek stopped him, his hand covering Stiles’ eyes. He could feel Derek’s breath, hot against his ear as he bent close. 

“Sleep, now.” 

Derek linked his fingers with Stiles’, keeping contact. Stiles could hear the clicking sound of Derek’s phone as he typed a message, setting it aside on Stiles’ bedside table. The bed dipped next to Stiles and then Derek's warm body was pressed against him, one arm draping protectively over Stiles, making him feel safe.

Stiles shifted, turning into the warmth of Derek’s body, tucking his arms up against Derek’s chest as he finally allowed himself to let go, and sleep. 

-

Stiles woke to hushed whispers and the smell of coffee. He sat up in bed, disoriented. Standing in his kitchen was Scott and Kira. Stiles rubbed at his eyes sleepily as he looked around for Derek. He didn’t see him anywhere. 

“Hey, buddy,” Scott said as he stepped forward, offering Stiles a cup of coffee. Stiles took it gratefully, his mind groggy as he sipped at it. 

“Where’s Derek?” Stiles asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

“He had to go to the bar,” Scott said, giving Kira a concerned look. “He called me and asked us to come over. We’re thinking it’s movie night.” 

“And pizza,” Kira said, smiling. Stiles frowned, but nodded his assent. Derek couldn’t be there, so he called Scott. It made his heart ache. Normally, Scott would be enough, being Stiles’ best friend, but all he felt was overwhelmed. 

“Pizza sounds good,” Stiles said as he got out of bed. “I’m just going to shower first.” 

“I’ll order!” Kira called out. 

As Stiles passed the kitchen on the way to the bathroom he saw how late it was; he’d slept all day. He wondered how long ago Derek left him, if he’d been alone at all. When he stepped into the hot spray of the shower, he started to feel better, like his mood was being washed away by the water. He felt very refreshed afterwards; a lot more like himself. He didn’t like that the intrusion made him feel so vulnerable, so unlike himself. 

Stiles pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that were in his hamper, shoving the sleeves up his arms so they showed off his tattoos. When he emerged from the bathroom, Scott had a stack of movies for Stiles to choose from. 

As it turned out, Stiles had needed a night with his friends. They made him forget about the threat, about his supposed stalker. With the pizza came dessert, and that’s when Kira opened the wine. Scott was the designated driver, so Stiles and Kira easily finished off the bottle as they made their way through the first Lord of the Rings. When they neared the attack on Helm’s Deep in Two Towers, Derek arrived. Stiles was relaxed as Derek appeared at the top of the stairs. Kira had fallen asleep against Scott’s shoulder sometime earlier, and Stiles had been sprawled out across Scott’s lap with a leg on top of him. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, his body warm from the wine. He smiled as Derek bent over, kissing him on the forehead. 

“You smell better,” Derek said, his thumb trailing down Stiles’ cheek. 

“How did I smell before?” Stiles asked. 

“Like distress,” Scott answered for Derek. “He’s right, you smell better now.”

“Lord of the Rings fixes all,” Stiles slurred. “And friends.” 

Derek helped Stiles to his feet as Scott woke up Kira. Stiles stretched his hands towards the ceiling, then draped his arms over Derek’s shoulders, resting his head against him. 

“Thanks for coming,” Derek told Scott. 

“Anytime,” Scott said, patting Derek on the back. “I’ll see you guys for the full moon?” 

“Yes,” Derek said with a nod of his head. “My pack looks forward to it.” 

“Night guys,” Stiles said as Scott and Kira walked towards the stairs. “Thanks for coming over.” 

“We’ll see you soon,” Kira said with a smile before they descended the stairs. Once they were gone, Stiles found that he felt rather sober, and awake, too. He had, after all, slept the day away. He sighed, biting at his lower lip. 

“Are you staying?” Stiles asked hopefully. 

“I was planning on it unless you don’t want me to stay,” Derek said seriously. 

Stiles kissed him. “I’m not tired, I was going to maybe work for a while.” 

“That’s fine with me,” Derek said. “Like I told you, I don’t need much sleep.” 

Stiles had been working for maybe thirty minutes before he grumbled to himself, catching Derek out of the corner of his eye. Derek had been reading a book on the couch, lounging back with both feet up on the couch, his head against a pillow as he flipped a page every minute or so. 

“Derek,” Stiles said. 

“Hmm?” Derek asked, not looking up from his book. 

“How would you feel about some foreplay?” Derek’s head peered out from behind the book, his eyes darting from Stiles to the clock on the microwave. 

“What did you have in mind?”

Stiles’ leg bounced up and down as he bit his lip. 

“I was thinking, as a reward for getting work done, I’d get to fuck you later.” 

“That doesn’t sound like foreplay,” Derek teased. Stiles rolled his eyes. “Explain.” 

“I mean, I need to do as much work as I would have gotten done if I’d had a regular work day so I’m not behind all week. But if I had incentive… maybe I’d blast through everything.” 

“I’m listening,” Derek said, intrigued. 

“I’m thinking butt plugs,” Stiles said. Derek hummed to himself, tapping his fingers against the book. “You could still read.” 

“I could,” Derek surmised, smirking. “How about a bit of both?” He suggested. “I wear a plug until you’re done with your work, and once you’re finished, I give you something you want.” 

“Me fucking you while you’re already stretched for me is what I want,” Stiles pointed out as he looked at his computer screen, making another layer in photoshop, trying to finish one of his pieces to send off. 

“I know something else you want,” Derek said, his voice lower than it normally was. Stiles lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. “It’ll be a surprise.” 

“I don’t like surprises,” Stiles pouted. 

“I promise it’s a five on your list,” Derek hinted. Too good to pass up, Stiles nodded his acquiescence. 

“Alright,” Stiles said with a sigh. “Let me save this and then we can get your plug--”

“I want you to watch me do it to myself,” Derek said, standing. “I know you like that.” Stiles’ jaw dropped slightly, but he quickly recovered. 

“I’d like that,” Stiles said, his voice hushed. 

Stiles picked out the plug he wanted Derek to use, freshly cleaned and still in the dishwasher from earlier. Stiles almost freaked out for a minute when he thought about all of his toys he left out on the counter, but Derek had already put them away, probably before he left for work. 

As Derek stripped down, Stiles got the lube and a towel ready. 

“What time did you leave earlier?” Stiles asked as Derek climbed onto his bed, his legs spread as he laid out on his back. 

“I had to leave around three,” Derek said as he poured lube into his hand, smearing it around with his fingers to warm it up. “I called Scott and they said they’d be over shortly. You weren’t alone for long.” 

Stiles nodded his head, licking his lips as he watched Derek’s fingers disappear into his ass, stretching himself. The plug Stiles chose wasn’t small, but it also wasn’t his biggest. It reminded him of the size of Derek’s knot, actually, which had Stiles hardening in his pants. 

Derek got himself worked up to four fingers before he stroked his lubed hand over his half hard cock lazily, pinching at the foreskin before plunging his fingers back in. Stiles knelt before him, watching as Derek grabbed hold of the plug, slowly pressing it against his hole, twisting it and teasing himself. Derek shifted on the mattress, panting as he pressed it inwards, not all of the way, still working himself open enough for the bulb of the plug. It would be a stretch for him, and Stiles found his own mouth dry as he breathed heavily, watching the plug disappear, Derek’s ass taking all of it until the only thing left showing was the flat head of the plug. 

Derek let his legs fall to the side as he rest his hands on his stomach, breathing evenly. Stiles stood up, bending down to kiss Derek on the lips. 

“You know just what I need,” Stiles said. Derek smiled at the praise, hooking his hand around Stiles’ neck, keeping him close as he deepened the kiss. 

“And you,” Derek said against Stiles’ lips. “Now get to work so you can fuck me.”

Stiles grunted, biting down on Derek’s bottom lip before stepping away. He needed to get to work, and he knew this was a way to get it done. Derek pulled his jeans back on after wiping the excess lube off of his thighs and ass. He, surprisingly, walked as if he didn’t have a massive plug up his ass, his gait the same as it always was. Stiles closed his eyes, trying to get himself to concentrate. 

He’d be able to touch Derek once he was finished; and fuck him. God, how he wanted to fuck him into the mattress. Stiles zoned out on his work, looking up every once in awhile to see Derek laying on the couch, reading. Stiles kept an eye on the clock. He did want at least a few hours of sleep before the next work day. Derek needed sleep too with his long hours despite stating that he didn’t. 

Stiles had never worked so fast in his life, barely taking any breaks before sending off two projects that had been half finished last week when he’d last worked; before the break in. Stiles forced himself to keep going, starting a third project before saving and closing his laptop. Derek looked up, his eyebrow lifting questioningly as Stiles stood up. 

“You done?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded as he stretched his back out. Derek put the book down, getting up himself as he walked towards Stiles. Stiles reached out for him, kissing Derek on the mouth as he groped at Derek’s ass, feeling the plug in it’s place. Derek grunted grabbing Stiles’ ass in return. 

“I’m done.”

“I don’t think you’re ready to fuck me, though,” Derek said in a faux pout as he cupped Stiles’ groin with his hand, rubbing it. 

“Give me a minute,” Stiles gasped as Derek’s grip on his ass tightened. 

“I can help you along,” Derek said, his nose brushing across Stiles’ cheek. Stiles hummed, remembering that Derek was going to give him something he needed, that he craved. “Do you want me to?” 

“Yes,” Stiles said as Derek began undoing his jeans. Stiles’ thoughts rushed to the time that Derek, as a wolf, had licked at him. It had been brief, but had returned time and time again to Stiles’ thoughts as he masturbated. Although, with the plug in place, Stiles doubted that that was what Derek had in mind. 

As Stiles stepped out of his jeans and briefs, he fondled himself, his hardening cock still catching up to what they were doing. Derek sat down on the couch, his legs spread a little as he eyed Stiles. Stiles wavered, wondering what Derek wanted him to do. 

“What are we doing?” Stiles asked. 

“I want you to lay down across my lap,” Derek said, which made Stiles’ shiver. He rid himself of his shirt, then did as Derek asked. At first, Derek’s touch was tender, his fingers trailing over Stiles’ back and ass, down his thighs as Stiles tucked his hands up against his chest, his cheek against the couch cushion. “Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes,” Stiles said, releasing a breath. 

“Do you know what I’m going to do?” Derek asked, his hand rubbing against Stiles’ ass, a finger teasing him by delving between his cheeks. Stiles nodded his head, closing his eyes. 

“You’re going to spank me,” Stiles said with a shaky breath. 

“And is that what you want? What you need?” 

“Yes,” Stiles whined with anticipation. When Derek’s hand left his ass, Stiles breathed in expectantly. The first smack filled the quiet apartment, making Stiles jump and moan as he arched his back against the touch, lifting his ass to give Derek more to hit. “Yes,” Stiles said again. 

“You want to fuck me with your ass red? With my handprint on you?” 

“Yes,” Stiles moaned as Derek’s hand landed on his cheek hard, leaving a deep, stinging sensation. Stiles groaned as he ground his hips against the feel of Derek’s hand landing on him again. He relished the feel of Derek giving him what he needed. 

Stiles shivered as Derek dragged his fingers down Stiles’ back, scratching lightly with claws instead of nails. Stiles whimpered as he thrust his hips against Derek’s leg. He was so hard, leaking precome onto the couch and Derek’s jeans. 

“Yes,” Stiles whined as Derek smacked his ass. “Fuck!” he hissed. The sound of lube surprised him, as did the feel of Derek’s finger pressing between his cheeks. It was with his left hand, his finger merely crooking in the right direction as he fingered Stiles, then smacked him. 

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Stiles panted, unable to keep from moving back against both Derek’s finger and the feel of his hand slapping against his skin. Stiles sobbed at the pleasurable pain, tears sliding down his face. Again and again, Derek served him with a slap, his ass on fire with each perfectly timed blow. 

“You ready to fuck me now?” Derek asked, his voice husky, the cadence the lowest Stiles had ever heard from him. Stiles nodded his head as he got up, straddling Derek’s lap as he kissed him lewdly, his tongue delving into Derek’s mouth. Derek growled as he palmed at Stiles’ stinging ass, making him yelp as he stood up.

“Yeah,” Stiles said as Derek carried him to the bed, his thighs pressing against Derek’s sides helping to keep him off the ground. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.” 

Derek grinned, taking Stiles’ lower lip in his mouth, biting down hard. Stiles pressed Derek against the mattress on his back, fumbling to get Derek’s jeans off of him and spreading his legs. Stiles tossed them to the side as he eyed Derek’s ass, the plug still seated in it perfectly. Before taking it out, Stiles tapped on it, taking it in his hand and twisting it. Derek groaned, his hard cock leaking precome as he jacked himself off, unable to hold back. Stiles grinned as he began fucking Derek with the butt plug, pulling it out just a bit before shoving it back inside. 

“Fuck,” Derek panted. “Fuck, Stiles, you need to--”

Stiles pulled the plug out to the relief of Derek. The sight was something to behold, Derek’s ass ready for him. Stiles trailed his fingers over his hole, index finger tracing over his rim. 

“Stiles,” Derek begged. 

Stiles didn’t hesitate in climbing on top of him, lining himself up with Derek’s entrance. He didn’t hold back as he fucked into him, his hips pistoning as he bit his lip. Derek’s eyes flashed as he held onto Stiles’ thigh instead of his ass. 

“No,” Stiles said, sweat covering his back. “No, you gotta--slap me again,” Stiles panted, his eyes closing as he fucked into him. Derek’s hand landed on Stiles’ sore ass, making Stiles see stars. “Fuck,” Stiles hissed, sinking deeper within Derek, fucking him hard. 

“Come on,” Derek said, his eyes closed. “I know you need it.” 

“God, I just-- Derek, I love-- I just,” Stiles winced, not wanting to tell Derek he loved him while they were fucking. It seemed so contrived. Stiles let out a sob as Derek clenched his ass around Stiles’ cock. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, cupping his face in his hands so that Stiles would look at him. “I love you. I’d do-- I’ll do anything--”

“Fuck,” Stiles said, coming. Stiles groaned, thrusting into him as he held onto Derek. “I love you,” Stiles whispered, kissing Derek on the lips. “I love you.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the added tags of Heather and past Heather/Stiles. For further explanation see end notes.
> 
> Only two chapters left! 
> 
> I think you guys have been waiting for this chapter.

Stiles woke abruptly when Derek shifted beneath him. Startled, Stiles rolled away from Derek’s warmth, rubbing at his eye as he squinted, trying to gather his bearings. 

“Go back to sleep,” Derek whispered, his hands in Stiles’ hair. Stiles’ eyes slipped shut as Derek kissed his forehead. “It’s only been two hours.” 

“Two?” Stiles asked, confused. Derek’s hand trailed down Stiles’ arm, pulling the covers over Stiles’ naked body. 

“I have to go to the bar, and you need sleep.” 

Stiles didn’t protest as sleep overtook him once more, pulling Derek’s pillow towards him, burying his face into it for comfort. 

He woke again hours later to the sound of someone banging on his door. Stiles stumbled out of bed, still naked, pulling the sheet with him as he made his way to the stairs, thudding down them blearily. 

“Coming!” He said as loud as he could as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was light now, the sun bright outside, filling his loft with its rays. He’d slept for a long time, it seemed. 

Stiles opened the door after unlocking it to find Scott standing with two bags of food. 

“Lunch has arrived!” Scott said, his nose scrunching up at Stiles’ scent but he didn’t say anything. 

“Did Derek tell you to come over?” Stiles asked, his voice scratching. 

“Nah,” Scott said with a smile, walking inside. “I thought I’d just bring you lunch, maybe get you to come down to the coffee shop with me to work for a bit, get out a little. You’ve been pretty secluded since, you know...” 

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Stiles said as he lead the way upstairs. “I’m going to hop in the shower. I’ll be quick.” 

“Good idea,” Scott said with a laugh. Scott looked around the apartment as he set the food down on the kitchen table. Stiles walked towards the kitchen as he took a quick look around the loft, hoping Derek had cleaned up before he left. The butt plug and lube were nowhere in sight, thankfully. 

Stiles scrubbed down in the shower, hissing as he gave his ass a tentative slap; it definitely stung. Stiles smiled to himself because Derek had known exactly what he needed. He didn’t feel quite so wound up or skittish. He was calmer than he had been in days, and the thought of going out wasn’t quite so daunting. 

He dressed quickly then sat down to eat with Scott, who brought Stiles a burrito from his favorite place. They ate in silence, then Stiles gathered his stuff to work remotely. 

The coffee shop was barely two blocks down the road, and had a vacant table for them to occupy. Stiles got himself a large coffee, vanilla latte, which was brought to him with a design. He felt good, considering everything. Booting up his laptop, he sipped at his coffee. Scott, too, readied himself to start working. 

“How’d you get away from the office?” Stiles asked. 

Scott shrugged. “I’ve got some sway with the boss,” he said. “Besides, I’m still working, just not in the office.” 

Stiles started by answering emails, then moved over to Photoshop. One of the projects he’d turned in needed tweaking, so he had to do that first to send back to the client. They fell into a silent companionship as him and Scott worked, Stiles mostly on his drawing tablet with his electronic pen, starting on a new project - a cover for a self-published novel. He was excited about the prospect of it, even though it was one of his first attempts at doing something like that. 

He lost track of time after Scott had gotten him another coffee. People kept coming into the coffee shop that they knew, which was a downside of living in such a small town. It wasn’t so bad once Stiles put headphones on, despite not really listening to any music, just so he wasn’t interrupted every twenty minutes or so. He checked his phone every once in awhile in case Derek texted him, but he knew that Derek got as immersed in his work as Stiles did so it didn’t bother him when his phone remained void of any texts. 

“Stiles?” A voice asked him. Stiles looked up from his screen where he was drawing to find none other than one of his exes smiling down at him. 

“Hey, Heather,” Stiles said, sliding off his headphones. He looked across from him; Scott wasn’t at his seat. He must have gone off somewhere, perhaps the bathroom, since his stuff was still there. “What are you doing in town?” 

His voice was clipped, but he tried to remain neutral. His relationship with Heather had been explosive in the best ways possible. She was his first in a lot of things, and as she looked him up and down, he could tell the spark was still there for her. 

“My mom’s fiftieth,” she said with a soft smile. “What are you up to?”  
“Working,” Stiles pointed out. He played with his pen, looking anywhere he could. It was awkward, because if Stiles’ mother was still alive he’d probably be going to Heather’s mother’s party. They’d grown up together. First kiss, first time, first domme--

“Well, the party isn’t until tomorrow, if you’re free tonight?” She asked. Stiles gave her a look. “Just to catch up,” she added with a wave of her hand. “We can fill each other in. Last time I saw you, you weren’t covered in ink and I don’t recall you having any muscle definition.” She bit her lip. Stiles dipped his chin towards his chest as he nodded his head. He couldn’t deny her dinner, if only to talk. Old flames were just that: old flames. He had baggage, just like anyone else, and they hadn’t ended things too badly. 

Well, there was a lot of screaming, but that was par for the course with them. Passion was high, but that was about it. Great sex didn’t make a great relationship, and he’d learned that the hard way. They’d been great friends before they started fucking, and they couldn’t maintain that friendship. 

“We can do dinner,” Stiles said, checking the clock. Scott appeared from the bathroom, eyes wide when he saw who Stiles was talking to. 

“I’d love that,” Heather said, her eyes landing on Scott. “Hey, Scott,” she said with a smile. “Long time no see.” 

“Heather,” Scott said slowly, looking between them, trying to gauge the atmosphere. 

“How are things?” Heather asked, stilted. Heather and Scott never really got along, which was a first for Scott because he usually got along with everyone. 

“Good, busy,” Scott said as he sat down at his seat and turned towards his laptop. Stiles smirked at Scott’s version of passive aggressiveness that merely meant he didn’t ask how she was in return. Heather gave Stiles a look, a smile still on her face as she turned back to him, her hand landing on his shoulder. Stiles looked at it, her nails painted red, a shiver going down his spine as he recalled the feel of them down his back. 

“So, I’ll see you tonight? Are you still living in your loft?” 

“I’d rather us eat out,” Stiles said. He didn’t want Heather’s scent in his apartment, because of Derek. “How about we meet at our favorite diner?” Scott was watching them silently, his face hardening with each word. Stiles shot him a glare, then turned his attention back to Heather. “Like old times.” 

Heather hummed, her finger trailing down Stiles’ arm, following the curve of one of his tattoos. 

“Too greasy, how about Thai?” 

“Sure,” Stiles said, his voice clipped. He didn’t like her obvious flirtation. “Around seven?” 

“Sounds great,” she said. “It was great running into you both.” 

“See you later,” Stiles said, leaning back in his seat. As soon as she was out the door he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Scott. “Dude.” 

“Dude!” Scott said, his hands flailing a bit. “What about Derek?” 

“It’s dinner, Scotty,” Stiles pointed out. “It’s not like I’ll be eating _her_ out.” 

“Are you going to tell him?” Scott asked. 

“Jesus, Scott, _yes_. I’m going to tell him I’m having dinner with my ex,” Stiles said as he raked his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t some Ron Swanson PTSD situation with Tammy, alright? I’ve got this. Besides, Derek’s busy tonight and catching up with Heather will be good, it will help with... everything.” 

“If you’re sure,” Scott said with a scowl. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, bro,” Stiles said with a laugh. “And for Derek’s sensibilities.” 

“At least you turned her down for coming to your place.” 

“I don’t even want to begin to explain werewolf senses,” Stiles joked as he scratched at his neck idly. “Alright, back to work. I want to get a lot more done before I have to go home to shower.” 

-

He called Derek once he got out of the shower, but got his voicemail. 

“Hey, Derek, it’s Stiles. I was hoping to catch you at a good time, I know you’re working late tonight-- listen, an old friend is in town so I’m having dinner with her. We’re eating Thai, so if you want me to grab you something to go, just text me. Later.” 

Stiles groaned to himself as he threw his phone down onto his bed. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he was going to dinner with Heather. His analogy to Ron Swanson was apt, because thinking about her fingers raking down his back had him practically on his knees. 

He loved Derek, he wanted Derek to pin him down. He wanted Derek beneath him, as well. As long as he was with Derek, he wanted anything, would _do_ anything with him and for him. So why was he going to dinner? It wouldn’t accomplish anything, but he was getting dressed anyway, even putting a little gel in his hair, enough to push it back off his forehead, his face smooth from shaving. 

He’d chosen a t-shirt, great for the warm night, and a pair of black jeans. Before leaving the apartment, he pulled on a thin plaid over shirt to cover his tattoos. He didn’t want Heather getting any ideas. 

When he arrived at the restaurant, Heather was already seated with her drink, her hair done up and red lipstick on her lips. She looked ravishing, and Stiles couldn’t help but give her a smile as he pulled his chair out. 

“You look good,” he commented, because he wasn’t going to be rude. They were both adults, and they could have dinner together. 

“Thank you,” she said with a tilt to her head. “So do you, though I’m sad to see you covered your arms,” she said with a pout. Stiles gave a casual shrug as the waitress brought him a water. He looked at the drink menu, ordering a Taiwanese beer before she walked off. 

“So,” he said with an easy sigh. “Your life, tell me all about it.” 

“Well,” she said with a smirk, her foot pressing against his under the table. Stiles pulled his foot away, folding his hands in his lap as he gave her a look. “I was looking to have a little fun but it seems like you’re not interested.” 

“I’m in a committed relationship,” Stiles said, glad that they jumped right to it. “I just wanted to catch up with you. As friends.” 

Heather nodded as she swirled her straw around in her drink before taking a sip. 

“Pity,” she said. 

“It is,” Stiles admitted. “So, you’re not seeing anyone?” 

“I didn’t say that,” she said with a glint in her eye. “We’re just... flexible. Are you sure you’re not up for it? Maybe a threesome?” 

Stiles laughed. Somehow, he doubted Derek would be up for that. 

“Thanks for the offer, but we’re not into sharing.” 

“I’m assuming they--”

“He,” Stiles provided. “His name is Derek.”

“I’m assuming Derek is in the scene?” 

“He is, but we don’t play with others.” 

Heather looked like she accepted Stiles’ limit, which was good because he didn’t want to be pressed further about it. It was hard, with their past, with the fact that she was his domme and some small part of him, deep down, still wished to please her. But this wasn’t a scene, and he wasn’t with her anymore. He had Derek, now. 

They ordered their food, made small talk about their families, and Stiles learned more about Heather and her partner. They did a lot of scenes publically at a club, enjoyed others as well. Stiles had been in small groups like that in the city, but it was hard in such a small town. He missed it, but what he and Derek did was private, considering the amount of werewolf-only shit they did. Stiles smiled when he thought about it. 

“If I was staying in town longer, I’d suggest we do a scene together, the four of us, but if you ever change your stance on sharing--”

“I’ll think about it,” Stiles said, knowing she didn’t mean harm by it. He wasn’t sharing his and Derek’s private life with her. She didn’t need to know that they weren’t in a relationship that was based solely on domination and submission; that they were both switches. She didn’t need to know that. 

When it came time for the check, Stiles reached out for it, but Heather snatched it up first. 

“Heather--”

“Stiles,” she said with a lift of her eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it. My treat.” Stiles grit his teeth, remaining silent. For the first time, he checked his phone, which had been on silent. He had texts from Derek, asking Stiles to get him something: _Red curry, hot. Please._

Stiles told the waitress that he needed it to go and Heather looked at him expectantly. 

“For Derek,” Stiles said. “He’s working late so I’m going to bring it to him.” 

“So good of you,” she said, approvingly. Stiles felt the need to defend himself, that he wasn’t Derek’s submissive, but it didn’t matter. He knew how things were between the two of them, it didn’t matter what someone else thought. 

“It was great seeing you,” Stiles said as he stood up. He’d wait by the to go counter to pick up his order. “I’m glad you’ve found your niche.” He meant it - he was happy for her just like how he hoped she was happy for him. 

“You too, Stiles,” she said as she stepped forward, giving Stiles a kiss on the cheek, her hand squeezing his upper arm. “You let me know about that offer, alright?” 

“Sure,” Stiles said, though he knew he’d never call her on the offer. “Next time.” 

Stiles watched her leave, letting out a breath as soon as she was out the door. He waited for Derek’s order, then paid for it as soon as it was ready. He headed for Blood Moon, parking around the back so he didn’t have to park blocks away because the warehouse district was so busy. Boyd was at the door and let Stiles in with a nod of his head. It was packed, with it being so close to the solstice. Cora was at the bar, along with Erica, and no sign of Derek. As if she scented Stiles, Cora looked up and ushered him back behind the bar. 

As he approached, her brow drew together. 

“What--”

“I had dinner with a friend,” Stiles said cutting her off about asking more. “Is Derek downstairs?” 

“He is,” Cora said, the look on her face hard to describe but it was rather like she was trying not to sneeze. Stiles rolled his eyes as he opened the door and walked down the stairs taking them two at a time. 

“Derek,” Stiles called out, despite the fact that Derek probably heard him as soon as he pulled up. Derek appeared, wearing a tight fitting tank top and pair of old, faded jeans. “Your food has arrived.” 

Derek stepped forward, not even looking at the food as he kissed Stiles, cupping his face with his hands. Stiles let him, let his tongue delve into Stiles’ mouth with finesse and need. Stiles placed his hands over Derek’s. 

“How was your day?” Derek asked, his nose pressing behind Stiles’ ear. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh as he kissed the palm of Derek’s hand, his eyes closing as he felt Derek’s teeth on his ear. 

“Good,” Stiles said as he licked his lips. “Scott was with me, took me to the coffee shop, I had dinner with an ex--” Stiles yelped as Derek bit down on his neck, sucking at his skin as he pulled Stiles closer. “She wanted to do a scene.” 

“Really?” Derek said, his hands firmly on Stiles’ ass. 

“Really,” Stiles panted. “But I told her we don’t share.” He could feel Derek smile against his neck before licking him there. Stiles carded his fingers through Derek’s hair. “Did you eat today?” He asked.

“Barely,” Derek answered. “I had a lot to do.” 

“Good thing I brought you something, then.” 

“Mmm,” Derek hummed. “Are you staying? Going home?” 

“I could stay awhile,” Stiles said as he kissed Derek on the lips. “You could teach me about brewing.” Derek grunted, his stubble scraping against Stiles’ skin. “If you’re working late, maybe I should go. I don’t want to distract you.” 

Derek groaned, putting his head down on Stiles’ shoulder. 

“I do have a lot to do,” Derek grumbled. “How about I stop by later, when I’m done?” 

“I’d like that,” Stiles said. He kissed Derek again. “You done scenting me, now?” Stiles asked teasingly. Derek nodded, but brushed his cheek over Stiles’ once more anyway. “Make sure you eat,” Stiles pointed towards the food. “And I’ll see you later.” He stepped away, but Derek pulled him back, kissing him once again, desperate for touch. Stiles yanked on Derek’s hair, ending the kiss. “I’ll see you later,” he said one more time.

“Okay,” Derek said, his voice hoarse. Stiles mouthed the words ‘I love you’ without saying them aloud, in case Cora and Erica were listening to them. Derek practically growled, kissing Stiles again, pressing him against the nearest wall. Stiles moaned, unable to keep his hands off of Derek. 

“Derek, don’t-- we can’t, not here--” Stiles tried for reason. “They can hear us,” Stiles panted as Derek groped him through his jeans. Stiles managed to grab Derek’s nipple, pinching it between his thumb and index finger. “Derek,” he said sternly.

Derek’s eyes flashed red, making Stiles shiver. Derek’s arms were to either side of Stiles’ head as they stood there, panting, both of their mouths open. 

“Later,” Stiles promised. Derek nodded his head, his eyes closing as he brushed his nose across Stiles’ cheek once more. 

As Stiles righted himself and headed up the stairs towards the bar, he had to take a breath before opening the door. It was then that he realized that it was, of course, a bar full of werewolves who probably heard everything that just happened, not to mention the fact that Stiles now had beard burn and a mark on his neck from Derek - claimed. Stiles held his head high as he walked through the crowd, towards the exit. 

-

Back at his loft, Stiles found it quiet. He was alone for the first time in days and he didn’t know what to do. He turned on Netflix, then began going through the photographs he took of Derek days before. After awhile, he texted Derek, asking if he could post some of them. 

Derek gave his permission, as long as his face wasn’t showing. That was, of course, one of Stiles’ own rules, so he expressed that no one would see Derek’s face in the photos. Stiles set them up on a queue, going ahead and posting the first right away. He scrolled through his blog a bit, his attention mostly on the TV. As always when he posted something new, messages came pouring through. He began deleting the ones about Kik and Grindr, his breath catching in his throat when he saw a simple message: _I hope you liked your gift._ Stiles stared at it, his eyes glazing over when he saw who it was from. 

There was more to the message, but Stiles couldn’t concentrate on it, because he knew who had been in his apartment: Peter. 

Another message appeared, longer this time. 

_It seems as though you’ve been busy in my absence. I’ve returned since giving the gift, but you’ve been otherwise occupied._ Stiles felt vulnerable as he sat, alone, in his apartment, wondering if he’d locked the door. _I’ll see you soon, be able to give you what you need soon._

Stiles could feel the bile rising in his throat as he shoved his laptop away. He covered his mouth with his hand then making his way to the bathroom, splashing his face with water. He wouldn’t let Peter affect him like this. He’d ignored him for so long, but he knew that it was time to send a message back, especially with the solstice approaching. 

He sat back down on the couch, pulling his laptop back to him, hitting reply: 

_Peter, you need to stop messaging me. I am with your nephew, your alpha, and your advances aren’t wanted. I do not need you, or want you. You’re harassing me and I thought by not answering you’d get the picture. Do not contact me again._

Stiles typed it so fast and hit send that he barely breathed. He sat there, staring at the screen for a moment before shutting it his laptop. He was done with his blog for the night. 

Unable to concentrate on Netflix, he changed into something more comfortable, then began digging around in his bins, looking for something new to try with Derek. He wasn’t sure what he was in the mood for, if he wanted to fuck Derek with a dildo, and himself, at the same time, or if he wanted Derek to fuck him hard, to knot him, to claim him before Peter came into town again. 

Stiles sat down, surrounded by his mess, pulling his knees close to his chest as he pressed his lips against his knees, zoning out. He didn’t want Peter to affect what he did with Derek. He didn’t want it to bleed into his relationship. Stiles breathed in and out, counting down from ten, then doing it over again. 

He didn’t realize Derek had arrived, jumping when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles cursed, covering his eyes with a hand. “You scared me.” 

“I said your name a few times,” Derek said, looking around at the mess. “Planning something?” 

“Yes-- no, not really,” Stiles admitted as he shook his head. “I was just looking.” 

“Hmm,” Derek said as he helped Stiles to his feet. “You look... not as calm as earlier. Did something happen?” Derek asked. Stiles bit his lip, because here was his opportunity to tell Derek about Peter, about the messages and the dead deer. He could tell Derek that one of his own pack was stalking him, or Derek could make Stiles forget about his worries, push them further away. 

Stiles wished for the latter, but knew that he needed to tell Derek before the solstice. 

“I know who left the dead deer in my apartment,” Stiles whispered. 

“Who?” Derek asked, stepping forward. 

Stiles winced, his eyes closing as Derek wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he said. “I didn’t think he’d done it, not until tonight when he left a message on my blog. He sends them, messages I mean, all the time and I wouldn’t have known--”

“Stiles, what are you talking about?” Derek asked, running his hands soothingly up and down Stiles’ arms. 

“Peter,” Stiles said in a rush. “Your uncle, he sent the deer.” 

“What?” Derek asked, his face darkening. “How do you know?”

“Because he sent me a message on my blog, Derek. That day I met him, I recognized his hands, because he’s been sending me photographs for months, I knew his hands and he keeps sending me these messages, about how he wants me, and I didn’t do anything. I didn’t instigate anything. I never responded until tonight when I told him to fucking stop because he’s stalking me--”

“Stiles,” Derek said, pulling Stiles closer to him. “It’s okay,” Derek said, his voice breaking. “I’ll make sure he stops.” Stiles clung to Derek, his eyes closing as he relaxed. “He’ll stop.” 

“I didn’t tell you because I thought he’d stop once he realized that I was with you, but he didn’t.” 

“Fuck,” Derek said. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Don’t--”

“Yes,” Derek said, his fangs showing as he sneered. “He won’t lay a hand on you.” Stiles nodded his head as Derek kissed his forehead. “I’ll deal with him.” 

Derek sounded as tired as tired as Stiles felt. They stood there, their heads pressed together, swaying a little bit. 

“I’m glad you told me,” Derek said, licking his lips. “I knew there was something, but I didn’t want to pry--”

“I should have told you as soon as I knew,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I thought he’d stopped.” 

“This won’t go any further,” Derek promised. “He’s no longer welcome in my pack. He was on thin ice already. I’m renouncing him at the solstice.” 

Stiles frowned. “Is that-- is that wise? With Scott’s pack being present?” 

“I’m sure Scott will agree with me that my uncle is no longer welcome within the Beacon Hills territory,” Derek said.

Stiles stood there, in Derek’s arms, hoping that it would go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Heather being in the fic: Heather runs into Stiles and Scott at a coffee shop and flirts with him. They have a past together and end up going to dinner, but nothing happens.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter left! 
> 
> if you didn't hear on tumblr the other day, I'm thinking about making this into a SERIES! Let me know if you'd be interested in that, if you'd subscribe etc. If so, I'll probably make it into a series PRIOR to posting the final chapter, so you can subscribe to the series and know when I start the second part :) 
> 
> I've had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I feel like their world isn't over just yet, but I want to get a feel for the interest in doing so! you can let me know your thoughts on tumblr at @attoliancrown or @misbehave-dly (the porn blog for this fic!)
> 
> also if you have any scene ideas that I didn't touch on in this fic that you feel would work well in this verse, I'm all ears! 
> 
> the final chapter will be posted on the 8th!
> 
> update: You can now subscribe to the SERIES: Satisfaction! Subscribe so you won't miss out on the second part of the series after Misbehaving for Days is done!

Stiles woke in stages. At first, he wasn’t sure what was going on, but as he felt the wet, hot heat of Derek’s mouth on his dick, he got the idea. He’d been on the cusp of wakefulness as Derek’s hands slid up and down his body, brushing over a nipple, but Derek’s mouth on him had Stiles’ mind more aware of what was happening. 

A moan escaped Stiles’ mouth as he shifted on the bed, his legs spreading as Derek settled himself between them, his mouth taking Stiles’ length as he fondled Stiles’ balls. Without opening his eyes, Stiles reached out for Derek’s head, his fingers tightening on Derek’s hair holding him in place as he began to buck his hips up, fucking up into Derek’s mouth. The sounds coming from Derek were lewd as Stiles’ cock hit the back of Derek’s throat. Derek’s hands moved to Stiles’ thighs, nails digging into his skin. Stiles arched his back as opened his eyes. 

Derek was half-shifted, his claws scratching across Stiles’ stomach as he lapped at Stiles’ cock where it lay on his stomach, covered in spit and precome. Stiles shuddered as he felt a fang on his dick as Derek carefully took him back into his mouth. Derek slid up Stiles’ body, mouthing at him the entire way, sucking on his skin, marking his body with his mouth and teeth without breaking the skin. 

Stiles panted as Derek licked at his mouth once, hands grabbing onto Stiles’ wrists and pinning them above his head. Stiles closed his eyes as he squirmed under Derek’s strength. It made him struggle more as he felt Derek’s erection pressing against his body. The feel of Derek’s shifted stubble rubbing against his skin made Stiles whimper, his cock dripping more precome. 

It was the day of the solstice, and Derek’s libido was heightened tenfold. They’d discussed it throughout the week leading up to it. Derek had warned Stiles that he’d want him as if he was in a heat, that it was the first solstice that Derek had a significant other to share that need with. Stiles gave him permission to have him at will. He was Derek’s and would satiate him. 

He didn’t think it would start at dawn, though. Derek wasn’t joking when he’d said _all day_. 

“Come on,” Stiles said as Derek sucked on his nipple, teeth catching, making Stiles hiss. “I know you need me.” Derek nuzzled Stiles’ neck as he put a hand over Stiles’ throat, applying pressure. Stiles’ chest heaved as he felt claws against the back of his neck, his head tilting back as his mouth hung open. Derek’s cock pressed against Stiles’ entrance, his hips rocking, teasing. Stiles tugged against Derek’s hand that held his above his head, wanting to feel Derek’s heavy cock as it slid into him, but Derek wouldn’t let him budge. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice barely audible as he pressed inwards, giving Stiles the stretch he craved, that burn he liked. He hadn’t showered the night before, after they fucked, after he had Derek tied up as he straddled him, fucking himself on not only Derek’s cock, but a dildo as well. Stiles was plenty stretched enough for Derek’s cock, and his knot. 

Stiles whimpered as Derek’s grip on his throat tightened as he bottomed out, his hips not moving until Stiles began rolling his own wantonly, needing Derek to move. Derek pressed Stiles down into the mattress as he began fucking him, his thrusts quick and deep, giving Stiles little time to adjust or catch his breath. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled Derek’s bedroom, along with Stiles’ moans and grunts. Stiles bit his lip as he felt Derek’s knot growing within him slowly, catching on his rim until Derek sunk into him, balls deep, then stilled so the knot could connect them. 

Derek nuzzled at Stiles’ neck again, licking his salty, sweaty skin, practically preening at him as he lapped at his armpit, exposed because Stiles’ arms were still pinned over his head. When Derek began moving again, his knot locked deep inside, Stiles shouted, the pressure intense as it filled him completely. Derek grunted as he came, thrusting his hips as his body lay on top of Stiles. He let go of Stiles’ hands and throat as he kissed up and down Stiles’ neck, sucking on his earlobe. 

“Morning,” Stiles said, his voice shot already. Derek huffed as he shifted back, his blunt nails tracing over Stiles’ torso, now covered in scratch marks and red welts.

“Hi,” Derek said as he wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, stroking him, teasing at his head by rubbing the underside of it instead of stroking his length. Stiles squirmed beneath him, his hips moving erratically, moaning without caring how desperate he was being, because Derek’s knot had him overstimulated and Derek teasing him first thing in the morning had him on edge. He wasn’t going to survive the day, it seemed. 

Stiles came, covering his chest with come as his body shook, his hands shaking as Derek moved within him, carrying him through his climax. Derek’s tongue on him kept Stiles lucid as he lapped up the mess, then buried his face against Stiles’ armpit once more, enjoying Stiles’ scent to the fullest. Stiles drifted back to sleep to the feel of Derek’s mouth on him. 

When he woke again, Derek’s knot was no longer inside him, but Derek had Stiles turned over on his stomach, arms tucked up beneath him as he ate him out, his tongue delving into Stiles’ ass, sucking out his come as he spread Stiles’ ass cheeks apart. Stiles whimpered, pushing his ass up to give Derek better access. Derek was insatiable, and Stiles needed to gain control or he wouldn’t make it to the party that night. 

“Derek,” Stiles said as he forced himself up onto his knees. Derek didn’t still from licking and lapping at him as Stiles reached behind him, grabbing hold of Derek’s hair, tugging. Derek’s eyes flashed red as the flat of his tongue licked up Stiles’ ass, his body taut, muscles flexing as he closed his eyes and continued, moaning. “Derek,” Stiles tried again, yanking at Derek’s hair. “Yellow,” he gasped out.

 

Derek winced, pulling away from him, his chest heaving. He was hard again. He knelt on the bed, his hands on his knees as he looked at the mattress instead of Stiles as he sat up, coming forward. Stiles cupped Derek’s face with his hands, his nose brushing across Derek’s stubbled cheek. 

“You have to let me recover, big guy,” Stiles said. “I don’t have a werewolf refractory period.” Derek opened his eyes as Stiles brushed his thumb across Derek’s lips. Derek took it into his mouth, sucking on it, holding onto Stiles’ wrist, his mouth trailing down Stiles’ arm. “I have an idea.” 

“Please,” Derek said, quieter than he normally was. Stiles kissed his cheek, then got off the bed. He wanted a shower, but he knew that Derek wanted him to smell like this, like nothing but sex and Derek, so he wouldn’t until just before the party. That also meant that he had until that night to keep Derek satiated. 

“Come on,” Stiles said as he walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water. Derek was there, behind him, his hands on Stiles’ body. Stiles refilled the glass, and offered it to Derek, feeding it to him, tilting the glass as Derek drank it down. He refilled it again, for himself as Derek nuzzled at his neck and shoulder. He ached everywhere, his legs felt like lead as he put the glass down in the sink. Stiles took Derek’s hand in his own, leading him back to the couch. “Sit,” he told him.

Derek sat, watching Stiles’ every move as he disappeared into the bedroom for Derek’s small box of his personal toys. When he emerged from Derek’s room, Derek had his hand around his straining cock, his head tilted back as he jacked off. Stiles knelt in front of him, watching for awhile as Derek in turn watched Stiles’ expression. 

Stiles held one hand behind his back, hiding what he’d brought out, as he bent forward, his tongue teasing at the head of Derek’s cock as he jacked himself off. Derek whined, giving Stiles more room to lick at him, his hand stroking near the base instead of up his length. Stiles took Derek into his mouth without using his hands, allowing Derek to guide him as he wished. Derek didn’t fuck Stiles’ mouth as Stiles liked to do to him, but enjoyed Stiles’ tongue teasing him. 

Stiles tasted Derek’s climax as come filled his mouth. Derek grabbed Stiles’ face with his hands and pulled him up, kissing him and sharing in that bitter taste. Stiles moaned as he wrapped his hand around Derek’s softening dick, stroking him until he was limp and whimpering as they continued to kiss. 

Only then did Stiles reveal the cock cage, Derek’s cock cage, from behind his back. Derek bit his lip, his chest heaving as he watched Stiles unlock it. Stiles lifted an eyebrow at him in question. 

“Yes,” Derek said, his cock twitching between his legs. It was the best way to keep him in check, at least until Stiles could take him again, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be fulfilled. Stiles had plans for him. Stiles locked Derek’s cock in it’s cage then straddled his lap, getting comfortable as Derek’s hands trailed up and down his thighs. Stiles kissed him lightly, holding the key. 

“I want you-- I want you to wear it,” Derek said. Stiles smiled, nodding his head as he got up from the couch, leaving Derek there, naked and locked. He found string in Derek’s office, and cut the right amount to make a makeshift necklace with the key. When Stiles returned with the key around his neck, straddling Derek’s lap once more, Derek kissed Stiles’ chest, his hands desperately roaming over Stiles’ body. 

“You’re mine,” Derek said, his voice hoarse, pupils dilated. Stiles nodded his head as his fingers raked through Derek’s hair. 

“And you’re mine,” Stiles said, kissing him. 

Stiles made them both breakfast, naked, before they moved on to the next scene. Stiles brought over a tub of his own, ready to make use of the quiet, remoteness of Derek’s house. Derek pushed back the furniture in his living room as Stiles brought out leather cuffs for Derek’s feet and hands. Above them, in the ceiling, were hooks for a chain, along with plates in the floor that Derek had installed the day before, hidden by the couch’s normal position. 

It had been Stiles’ idea, and Derek had readily agreed. 

Derek stood before him, his wrists out as he waited for Stiles to put them on him. Stiles took each wrist in his hands, his fingers trailing over Derek’s pulse points and kissing them before putting the cuffs on him. Stiles bent down, running his fingers up and down Derek’s calves, putting the cuffs around his ankles as well. 

Before Stiles got the chains out, Derek stretched his hands to the ceiling, then twisted his body, readying himself for what was to come. Stiles took the step stool he kept in the kitchen and brought it out to stand on, hooking Derek's hands in place from the ceiling. Derek watched without a word as Stiles secured him in place. He could get out of them if he really wished, but it wouldn’t be without damage to his home. He relinquished power to Stiles completely. This wasn’t like the Saint Andrew’s Cross, where if he broke it it wouldn’t really matter, but now, if he broke out, it would be his house. 

Derek hadn’t tapped out once with Stiles, because he trusted him completely. 

Stiles licked Derek’s nipples before clamping them, tugging until Derek grunted, his head falling back. 

“Color?” Stiles asked as he walked around Derek, admiring the view of his legs and arms spread. 

“Green,” Derek said. 

“How are you feeling with the moon?” Stiles asked him, concerned. Derek strained against the cuffs and chains, his back muscles flexing as Stiles dragged his finger down. 

“I need-- I need anything, anything you’ll give me.” 

“Anything?” Stiles asked, close to Derek’s ear. Derek nodded his head. 

“I’ll give you what you need, if you promise me not to hold back.” 

“I don’t--”

“You do,” Stiles said as he walked around to stare Derek in the eyes. “You hold back. I want you to let go. Can you do that for me?” Derek nodded his head, letting out a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” Stiles praised, his lips ghosting over Derek’s. “And shifted, as a wolf, you are mine and I love every side of you, every facet that makes up Derek Hale.” Derek seeked out Stiles’ mouth, and Stiles allowed him that much; to kiss him. “I’m going to make you shake and scream. Do you want that?” 

“Yes,” Derek said. “Please.” 

Stiles backed away from him, out of view as he readied himself, and Derek, for what he wanted to do. He put on gloves, bringing a few toys closer to Derek. Stiles placed a pillow on the floor behind Derek, then picked up the leather blindfold. 

“Is blindfolding you okay for today?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, his shoulders shifting as he prepared. 

Once Stiles put it on, he tugged at the small chain that connected Derek’s nipples, making him hiss. Stiles trailed his hand down Derek’s torso, cupping his locked cock, squeezing it, fondling his trapped balls in his hand. Stiles tenderly kissed Derek’s collarbone, nipping at his skin. 

He knelt behind Derek, opening the lube, taking the time to warm it between his fingers before rubbing down between Derek’s cheeks, a finger sinking inwards. Derek gasped, his hole clenching around Stiles’ finger as Stiles pressed in a second. He pulled back, watching Derek press back in search of Stiles’ hand. Stiles fucked Derek with his fingers until he was ready. Stiles inserted a small butt plug that was connected to a long, black cord with a pump on the end, only Derek didn’t realize that it was an anal pump, yet. 

Stiles moved the plug around, fucking Derek with it. He bit his lip as he watched Derek react, his head hung low between his shoulders. At the first pump, Derek gasped, his body shaking at the change of size. 

“Color?” Stiles asked him, his free hand trailing down Derek’s thigh and back up again. 

“Green,” Derek said, his voice wavering. Stiles tapped the plug with two fingers, then pumped it again. Derek shuddered, moaning. 

“How does that feel?” Stiles asked as he mouthed at Derek’s ass, dropping the pump so he could spread Derek’s cheeks with both of his hands, mouthing at him. 

“Good, it feels good,” Derek said. Stiles looked up at Derek’s hands, unshifted. He wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t bringing Derek to the edge. Stiles shifted around to Derek’s front, still holding onto the pump. He gave it two presses as he licked at Derek’s balls, teasing him as he stretched him out. Derek let out a choked sob. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, licking at Derek’s covered, locked head. He gave the plug another pump. Derek moved his neck, popping it as he shifted, his head hanging back as he panted, his toes curling. “There you are,” Stiles praised, taking off the gloves so he could scratch down Derek’s belly, through the coarse hairs. He tugged at the nipple clamps as he pumped the plug then released the pressure. Derek strained against the cuffs, tugging at them with clawed hands. Stiles watched him for a moment before pumping the balloon back up to where it had just been. Derek showed his fangs, his muscles flexing and straining beautifully. “Come on,” Stiles coaxed, his own breathing becoming labored. He moved around Derek, his fingers trailing over his body as he pulled out the plug, replacing it with a dildo, bigger than the plug, another pump. It would be the closest thing that Derek would feel that would be like a knot, though the whole thing expanded instead of just the base. Derek moaned as Stiles pumped it up, his hand smoothing across Derek’s ass. He gave it a tentative slap, to which Derek growled. 

“Color?” Stiles asked. 

“Green, fuck,” Derek said. Stiles grinned. When Derek started cussing, it meant he was losing control. “Fuck,” he said again. 

Stiles pumped the balloon again, flicking a switch on it, turning on the vibration. Derek shuddered, practically roaring. 

“Fuck, Stiles, fucking--”

Stiles let the vibrating pump do it’s job as he walked around Derek, biting his chest and shoulder, yanking abruptly on the nipple clamps then soothing the sting with his mouth sucking over them. Derek shook beneath his touch. As Stiles licked into Derek’s mouth, his tongue caught on a fang. Derek growled as Stiles rid Derek of the blindfold. 

“I want you to watch me,” Stiles said, his voice soft as he looked Derek in the eye. 

“Watch you what?” Derek panted, his pupils completely blown wide with want, with need. 

“Fuck myself,” Stiles said as he stepped away from Derek. Derek’s shifted form strained against the cuffs, chains jangling as Stiles reached for a belt and knelt before Derek. Stiles, with his hands behind his back, wrapped the belt around his wrists, restraining himself as he bent over, spreading his legs out. Derek groaned as Stiles tightened his grip on the belt until he really felt it, then teased at his hole with his fingers, sinking two in deep as he moaned, his cock hard and dripping between his legs. Derek made a distressed noise, unable to move to touch Stiles, could do nothing but watch as the pump continued to vibrate deep inside him. 

Stiles moaned at the stretch, the burn of playing with himself so soon after being fucked and knotted by Derek. 

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. “I need you to--” 

Stiles got up in the blink of an eye, undoing his own faux restraints and turning off the vibrator. Derek sighed as Stiles cupped his face with his hands, tenderly holding him as the pump’s air dissipated. Stiles kissed him on the lips chastely. 

“What do you need?” Stiles asked. 

“You to fuck me,” Derek said. He looked down at the key around Stiles’ neck. He leaned forward, his muscles pulling against the restraints as he licked at Stiles’ collarbone, teeth catching slightly as he took the key into his mouth, bringing his head up so that Stiles was pulled forward. Derek sucked on the key as Stiles cupped him, understanding. Derek wanted to be fucked, wanted to come by Stiles’ hand. Stiles nodded his head, pulling the key out of Derek’s mouth and kissing him. 

“Okay,” Stiles said. He stepped away from Derek, going into the kitchen and grabbing the table, placing it in front of Derek. He grabbed hold of the belt, bringing the step stool forward, letting Derek’s hands drop. Stiles took his time massaging Derek’s arms as he lowered them, making sure they weren’t too sore, but Derek’s body recovered fast. 

Stiles knelt before him, unlocking his cage without taking off the necklace, carefully removing it. Stiles licked up Derek’s limp dick, making it twitch as Derek shook above him, his dick already reacting, blood flowing into it. 

“Bend for me,” Stiles said, standing then pressing down on Derek’s back. Derek did as he was asked, laying his cheek down on the kitchen table as Stiles pulled Derek’s hands behind his back, using the belt to bind them, covering the cuffs. Stiles pulled out the dildo slowly, twisting it as he did so, making Derek moan. 

Without giving Derek time to adjust, Stiles entered him, pulling on the belt, using the leverage to fuck Derek hard. Derek was lifted slightly off the table as Stiles fucked him, each movement eliciting a moan from Derek. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Derek said, clawed hands near Stiles making him fuck Derek even harder, his thrusts erratic. “Stiles, I’m going to--”

“Not yet,” Stiles said as he leaned over, setting Derek down on the table, his hands roaming over Derek’s body as he slowed down. “Not yet, Derek.” Derek shook beneath him. 

Stiles kissed his way down Derek’s spine, picking up his pace again, his hips smacking against Derek’s ass. He held on with one hand as he pulled Derek away from the table enough that he could wrap his fingers around Derek’s cock, stroking him as he fucked him. Derek, unable to hold back anymore, covered Stiles’ hand with come, more than normal due to the moon and Stiles’ denial. Stiles came over Derek’s back after pulling out of him, running his messy hand through his own come, then feeding it to Derek who sucked each of Stiles’ fingers clean. 

Slowly, Stiles undid Derek’s restraints, rubbing at Derek’s wrists and ankles before Derek stood, wavering as he wrapped his arms around Stiles, shifted back as he pressed his face against Stiles’ neck. 

“Bath?” Stiles asked, rubbing his hands up and down Derek’s back. 

“Yes,” Derek breathed, his eyes closing. “You know exactly what I need.” 

They both fit in Derek’s deep, garden tub, with Derek’s back pressed against Stiles’ chest. Beneath the water, Stiles’ thumbs brushed across Derek’s reddened nipples as Derek dragged his blunt nails up and down Stiles’ legs. Stiles was completely relaxed as Derek seemingly drifted to sleep. 

Derek turned around in the tub, startling Stiles as he kissed him. Stiles felt between Derek’s legs that he was hard again. Stiles moaned, because he didn’t think he could take him again just yet. 

“I can’t,” Stiles said, his voice shaking as Derek picked him up, seemingly easier than normal, dripping wet, out of the bath and into his room. “Derek--”

Derek dropped Stiles into the bed, soaking it as he climbed on top of him, pushing Stiles onto his side, his cock sliding between Stiles’ thighs. Stiles pressed them together, allowing Derek to thrust against them. Derek held onto Stiles’ waist, hard enough to bruise, as he fucked against him coming quickly, making a mess of the sheets. Stiles was exhausted as he lay limp in the bed as Derek rested beside him. Derek’s hands moved across his body as Stiles sighed. 

“What are we going to do with you at the party?” Stiles mused. “You can’t go five minutes without fucking me.” 

“Erica and Boyd have put me through worse,” Derek groused. 

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “But Scott’s pack--”

“If he doesn’t feel the pull of the moon as much as me, he’s lying,” Derek said as he pressed a kiss against Stiles’ shoulder blade. Stiles lay there, wondering--

Stiles licked his lips. 

“If I lock you for the solstice?” 

“No,” Derek said. “It wouldn’t work, when I shift. I’ll be a wolf.” Stiles shuddered, his mouth dry at the thoughts whirling around in his head. He turned towards Derek, his eyelids heavy. 

“Derek, what if I want-- can we discuss your wolf form?” Stiles asked as he turned around so he could face Derek as he lay in bed. Derek frowned, his lips wet from licking them. He was hard again. Stiles scooted closer to him, wrapping his hand around Derek’s erection, leaning close to Derek’s ear. “I want you, all of you.” 

Goosebumps covered Derek’s body as he breathed out heavily. “I want to know what it’s like-- how you feel. In the survey you said you wanted it, too--”

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice breaking as he hooked his hand around Stiles’ neck as he jacked Derek off, his hips pistoning into Stiles fist. “Don’t-- God, I want that so bad, but I can’t--”

“Why not?” Stiles asked, licking up Derek’s cheek, his stubble scraping Stiles’ tongue. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” 

“Don’t I?” Stiles asked. Derek growled, rolling Stiles onto his back. Stiles moaned as Derek’s claws bit into his wrists as he thrust himself against Stiles’ pelvic bone. getting off by rubbing against him. “Derek,” Stiles gasped. “Tonight-- when everyone is gone--”

“I’ll come to you,” Derek said, leaning down and biting Stiles’ neck as he came, making a mess of Stiles’ stomach once more, spreading his come around before licking it up. Stiles lay there, completely content afterwards.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much to everyone who read, commented, kudos'd, and bookmarked this fic! it really means a lot, considering how nervous I was about posting this fic. 
> 
> make sure you subscribe to the [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/238479) so you won't miss out when I start posting the second part of this series (after I write it, of course!). 
> 
> also keep updated by following my nsfw blog (stiles' blog!) [misbehave-dly](http://misbehave-dly.tumblr.com)! (also, to have porn on your dash that reminds me of this verse!)
> 
> I'm accepting "scene" prompts for the second part of this series on my blog. I'm looking for kinks/scenes that you think would fit stiles and derek's dynamic in this universe! 
> 
> I'm sad it's over, BUT we have the next fic to look forward to now! We haven't seen the last of Stiles & Derek in this verse :)
> 
> **warning for minor dubcon: see end notes for details**

The gathering was on Derek’s deck. The kitchen door was open, but most of the house wasn’t being used for the solstice, since everyone would be going on a run together as one. Stiles had bathed twice, without Derek, but he knew that no amount of soap and scrubbing could diminish Derek’s scent on him. 

Not that he wanted Derek’s claim to go away. He simply didn’t want Scott to smell Derek’s come on him. Stiles mainly stood with Derek, holding one of Derek’s brews in his hand. There was a laced keg, but Derek supplied the human guests with alcohol as well. He bottled Stiles’ favorite, along with a few others for Allison and Lydia. 

It was a hit, with the two packs mingling together without too much posturing. Derek was at ease with his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, or resting on Stiles’ waist as they chatted. As the sun began to go down, Stiles felt Derek’s hands on him more and more, hooking his fingers in Stiles’ belt loops to keep him near. Scott, too, seemed a lot more relaxed around Derek, which in turn helped the tension to remain low. 

Out of anyone, Stiles was the most tense. Peter hadn’t shown up yet, but he knew that Peter would make an appearance. He hadn’t gotten a response from his message, but he doubted that Peter would give up so easily. 

Derek had talked to Scott about it, with Stiles present in the room. They both decided that Peter wouldn’t be allowed back into the territory, that he had to honor not only Derek’s claim on Stiles, but that he had to obey his alpha. Stiles didn’t really care for being talked about like an object, but he knew deep down that Derek didn’t see him like that; it was just pack politics. 

He was still straddling two packs, and those two packs wouldn’t allow Peter to stalk him, or touch him, for that matter. But, Stiles was on edge about the entire situation. Derek scraped his stubble over Stiles’ cheek as Stiles stared off into the darkening woods. 

“I could _not_ go on the run,” Derek offered. 

Stiles shook his head, frowning as he turned to look at him. 

“No, you need to go, it’s important.” 

“He’s still not here,” Derek pointed out. “The moon is rising soon.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles chided as he looked between Scott and Derek, both of them giving him a look. “Allison is sticking behind too, and she has wolfsbane bullets.” 

“True,” Scott said. “Allison won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Stiles said, though his voice wavered. He really thought that Peter would have showed up earlier. 

“Maybe he won’t come,” Scott said optimistically. Derek and Stiles exchanged glances, not really believing that for a moment. 

“If he doesn’t come before the run, make the mountain ash circle,” Derek said. “Deaton gave enough--”

“I know,” Stiles said, crossing his arms. “But I’d like not to waste that much mountain ash if I don’t need to. 

“I’d rather you be safe,” Scott said. Derek nodded his head in agreement. 

“Fine,” Stiles said with a sigh. “First sign of trouble and we’ll use it.” 

“Good,” Derek said, kissing Stiles on the cheek before making an announcement to both packs. The group all settled down as Derek stood by the flood light to make a short speech. Erica and Stiles had put up twinkle lights, for decoration, but they didn’t help much for lighting the deck itself. 

“I want to welcome Scott’s pack to our solstice celebration,” Derek said, nodding his head to Scott, who mimicked his movement. “I want to thank Stiles,” Derek said, reaching his hand out for him. Stiles stepped forward, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “For being there for me in more ways than he knows,” Derek said, kissing him. Stiles smiled, his eyes closing for a moment before ending the kiss. Derek coughed a little before continuing on with his speech. “The solstice is a time of gathering, where we come together as a pack. Guardians of this territory.” Derek indicated to Scott’s pack. “As werewolves, we don’t have many traditions, but my mother and alpha taught me the importance of gatherings, such as these. Beacon Hills may be a neutral territory now, but it is still ours to protect.” 

Derek looked at Stiles, his face serious. Stiles took a deep breath. “It’s also a time for remembrance, so I’ll lift my glass to my family, of our former alpha, Talia Hale.” Everyone lifted their glass in salute before taking a sip. Derek continued on, licking his lips before doing so. “As werewolves, we think about our past, our present, and our future. I’d like nothing more than to say that my hope for the future is the bond of our two packs to grow so that we once more become the protectors that Beacon Hills needs.” 

Applause broke out as Derek stepped back into the crowd, right towards Stiles with his cheeks flushed. Stiles reached out for him, cupping Derek’s face in his hands as he pressed their foreheads together. 

‘I love you,’ Stiles mouthed at him. Derek smiled, closing his eyes. The sun slipped behind the horizon, the sky darkening further as everyone continued talking and getting ready to go on the run. 

“So you’re going to lead the run?” Stiles asked. 

“Yeah,” Derek said as he finished off his glass, setting it on the table. They ran naked; there was no modesty between werewolves. Stiles had never been to such a gathering, since Scott’s pack consisted of such diverse shifters. 

“We’ll be gone until morning,” Derek said, giving Stiles a heavy look. “I’m serious about the mountain ash.”

“You’ll come back, if you sense him?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded his head. “Then I don’t have anything to be worried about.”

Derek cricked his neck, his eyes closing and nostrils flaring. When he opened them again, they were red, his fangs showing. 

“It’s time,” Derek said, his voice loud enough to carry over everyone elses. Stiles kissed him one more time, his lip catching on Derek’s fangs before pulling away, stinging. “Stay here.” 

Stiles nodded his head as he crossed his arms, stepping back towards the house as everyone began to strip. Derek discarded his clothes nearby, giving Stiles one last look before shifting fully into his wolf form. Stiles rushed forward, gathering up Derek’s things off the ground.

Stiles watched as everyone gathered by Derek and Scott, waiting for them to howl. When they did, together, everyone else joined. It made goosebumps from all over Stiles’ skin, the sound of it echoing off of the forest surrounding them. They ran off into the woods, disappearing within seconds, leaving Stiles with Allison and Lydia to clean up. 

“Get the mountain ash out,” Allison said with a smile. “We’ve got this.” Stiles nodded, taking Derek’s clothes inside. He’d put the bag of it under the kitchen sink. He ran Derek’s clothes into his room, tossing them into the hamper, before grabbing the mountain ash. It had taken him maybe thirty seconds to get back onto the deck. When he did, he froze. Allison had a gun aimed at a shifted werewolf who could be none other than Peter. He had Lydia by the throat, but his attention was on Stiles. Unlike Derek’s shifted form, Peter’s was grotesque, less humanoid and more beastly with massive muscles. Stiles could see blood dripping down Lydia’s throat from where Peter’s claws pierced her skin. 

“Let her down,” Allison said before Stiles was able to even take another step outside. “Or I’ll shoot.” 

It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, and Stiles wondered if Derek could hear it, or if Derek knew Peter had shown up. He dropped the rest of mountain ash at his feet, his hands up in front of him as he walked forward. 

“Peter,” Stiles said, tilting his head, showing Peter his neck. “Let Lydia down.” 

Peter didn’t budge. Stiles looked to Allison, who only needed a clearer shot to hit him. 

“I know you’re not here for her,” Stiles said with surprising conviction, considering how scared he was. “You’re here for me.” Peter let out a low growl, possessive as he moved quickly, throwing Lydia through the air, knocking her into Allison, sending them both to the ground. Stiles scrambled back, grabbing hold of the mountain ash bag as he ran into the house, slamming the door shut behind him though he knew it wouldn’t slow Peter down for long. 

The door splintered as Peter crashed through it, but Stiles had enough time to make it into the living room and make a small circle of ash, enough to secure himself. He couldn’t do anything but stand in it, but it was a circle all the same. Peter rushed at him, knocking back a few feet as he hit the mountain ash barrier. Stiles stood there hyperventilating, wide-eyed, as Peter’s eyes flashed blue, his jaw snapping as he showed his claws. Stiles shuddered as Peter circled around him, licking his chops. 

He was naked, so naked, and Stiles covered his mouth as he shut his eyes. The wolves had to be on their way back, there was no way they hadn’t heard the crash. 

A shot rang out as a bullet was fired, hitting Peter in the side. He roared, baring his teeth as he turned his back on Stiles to charge at Allison. 

“Ally, you get Lydia out!” Stiles shouted. “I’m safe, but you have to go get Scott and Derek!” 

Allison shot at Peter again, hitting him, but he kept coming at her. Stiles needed to get Peter’s attention back on him and not on the girls, because Peter wasn’t slowing down. 

“Peter!” Stiles yelled, his hands shaking as much as his voice as he began to strip down. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” He asked as he threw his shirt at him, then his socks. Peter turned back towards him, sniffing each piece of clothing as he dripped blood on Derek’s hardwood flooring. Stiles’ blood pulsed through his body as he shoved his jeans down, finding it hard to breathe. “You want me, right?”

Peter was obviously more than interested, based on his body’s reaction to Stiles’ half-nude state. He really didn’t want to get rid of his boxer briefs, but he needed to give the girls more time to get away. Peter was growling at him, or more than likely: he was growling at Stiles’ markings. He had Derek’s teeth marks, claw marks, hickeys, and scent covering him. 

“I’m already claimed, Peter,” Stiles said with confidence. “Your _alpha_ has claimed me.” 

“No,” Peter snarled. 

“No, what?” Stiles said as he turned his body, following Peter’s movements as he circled around him. 

“He isn’t my alpha,” Peter said as lunged, ricocheting off the circle. Stiles jerked, though, his body jumping at the sudden movement. He stepped out of the circle for a second, but recovered. He’d made the circle too small, he didn’t even have enough room to sit. Peter grinned at him. 

“He doesn’t deserve you, you should be mine, should be covered in my scent and piss.” Stiles shook his head, afraid that Peter was about to do just that when he heard it, the sound of howls. Peter’s ears twitched before he turned his attention back to Stiles, looking around the room at the furniture. 

Stiles didn’t know enough about mountain ash, but he panicked as Peter shoved the couch towards him. Stiles had to clamber on top of it, hoping that he would still be over the circle as Peter hit the mountain ash wall. When he grabbed hold of Stiles’ arm, Stiles knew he’d been unable to remain within the safety of the circle. 

Peter had Stiles on the ground within the blink of an eye, easily pinning him down. Stiles struggled with all his might, but his strength was too much. It was then that Stiles realized that Derek had always held back his strength, that he gave Stiles control when they fucked, but that he could break Stiles like a twig if he so wished, and Peter wanted nothing more to do that. 

“Mine,” Peter hissed as Stiles kicked beneath him. Stiles spit in his face, which wasn’t wise, but he couldn’t think straight as he panicked. Peter growled as he turned Stiles over onto his stomach. Stiles grabbed at the floor, desperately trying to get away from him. He managed to grab a handful of the mountain ash, breaking the circle, but flinging it in Peter’s face. 

Peter screamed as Stiles got out from underneath him, running towards the back door that hung off it’s hinges. Peter was right on his heels, and Stiles felt claws scrape across his back as he made it out onto the deck just as the wolves breached the forest line. 

Stiles let out a cry of relief as he jumped off the deck, his back stinging as he hit the ground and covered his head with his hands as he landed. He heard the werewolves colliding with Peter, all of them jumping over his head at full speed, attacking. 

He heard the sounds of the fight, though he couldn’t seem to move. The sound of flesh tearing and jaws snapping had him in shock as he was pulled to his feet. His head spun as he heard Allison trying to talk to him, but he couldn’t make out the words as his chest constricted. He managed to look towards the deck, but couldn’t see a thing. 

-

Allison had called his dad, apparently, because there were sirens. He showed up alone, discretion warranted as he wrapped a shock blanket around Stiles’ shoulders, shining a light in Stiles’ eyes to make sure that he was responsive. Stiles clung to the blanket, letting out a shaky breath as his father made his way around the side of the house. Allison sat with him, holding his hand. He looked down at it, at the ring on her finger. 

“Is he dead?” Stiles asked. 

“Definitely,” Allison said with a small smile. Stiles nodded his head, letting out a sigh. Stiles’ father reappeared some time later with Scott and Derek trailing behind him, both clothed. At the sight of Derek, Stiles stood up, his hand falling from Allison’s. 

“Derek’s just told me that his uncle has been stalking you.The deer and messages were him, too?” His dad said asked. Stiles nodded, pulling the blanket closer around him. “While I understand that it could have been filed under ‘werewolf business’, you aren’t one, and he could have been given a restraining order--”

The sheriff pinched his nose in frustration. 

“I’m not going to lecture you about this right now,” he said with a sigh. “But it’s been taken care of, and for the sake of keeping this off the radar, I won’t be filing a report.” The sheriff looked at Derek, who seemed to be unable to look at anything but the ground. “Your back doesn’t look too bad,” his dad said, his eyes not leaving Stiles’. “Peter’s claw marks won’t need stitches, but--”

Stiles winced, because he knew what it looked like to an outsider, that he’d been abused. Stiles began shaking his head. 

“Stiles, tell me the truth now,” his dad said. “So I don’t need to bring him in for abuse.” 

“Dad,” Stiles said. “It’s not what you think,” Stiles said. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell his dad that he was a kinkster. The sheriff nodded his head, sighing. 

“You know, I should have known, you were such a -- unique child.” 

Stiles raised his eyebrows. 

“The amount of times you poked your bruises,” the sheriff said. “How you used to steal my handcuffs-- your obsession with Sleeping Beauty. Do you know how many times you watched the scene with Prince Philip--”

“Dad,” Stiles said, shaking his head in embarrassment. His dad hugged him carefully, avoiding his tender back. 

“I just needed you to say he wasn’t hurting you.” 

“I’d never--” Derek started to say. 

“He wouldn’t,” Stiles said. “Thanks, Dad,” Stiles said. 

“Do you want to come home for the night?” His dad asked. Stiles shook his head, glancing at Derek. 

“No, I need to stay,” Stiles said. His dad nodded in understanding. 

“I expect the two of you at my house every Sunday,” the sheriff said before leaving. 

“Yes, sir,” Derek said. With one last look, the sheriff got into his car. Derek had Stiles in his arms, his hand on Stiles’ neck protectively. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, biting his lip. “But I think your door is pretty much SOL.” 

-  
Derek drove Stiles to his loft after getting him his clothes. Stiles couldn’t concentrate, he kept laughing at the fact that his father knew about his pain kink because he was attacked by Derek’s uncle; the entire thing was absurd. Derek didn’t say anything as Stiles laughed to himself, his back barely stinging now. It was different outside of the bedroom, where the pain was mixed with pleasure, when Stiles _wanted_ it. But still, it wasn’t so bad since he had the adrenaline from everything that had happened, but Stiles knew he’d crash soon enough. 

They walked up the stairs together, then Derek took over, grabbing Stiles a Gatorade from the fridge before ushering him towards the bed. Stiles sipped at the bottle, his eyes on Derek who paced back and forth. 

“You’re still affected by the moon,” Stiles stated. Derek nodded his head as he scratched idly at his neck beneath his chin. “We could--”

“We’re not doing anything tonight but sleeping,” Derek said. “You’ve been through enough.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek, crossing his arms as he held onto the gatorade. “My house is trashed, you almost _died_. Last night was supposed to be symbolic that our two packs could live harmoniously and then Peter tried to kill you.”

“Peter was acting alone, not with a pack. He said you weren’t his alpha; he was an omega, and you killed him. You and Scott, both packs worked together and I’m okay,” Stiles said as he reached out, pulling Derek towards him. “I’m fine, tis’ but a scratch,” Stiles said as he kissed Derek. 

“Still--” Derek said, holding onto Stiles carefully. “You need sleep.” Stiles huffed, rolling his eyes but nodding his head. 

“Alright,” he conceded. “But I require wolf cuddles,” he said with a smirk. Derek kissed him again, then stripped down to nothing, shifting into a wolf before Stiles, hopping up onto the bed without preamble. Stiles sat at the edge of the bed, sipping at his gatorade as he pet Derek’s head, fingers carding through the fur. 

“Tomorrow we’ll fix your house,” Stiles said, leaning over and kissing Derek on the nose. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes closing and becoming harder and harder to keep open with each passing second. He took a deep breath, setting the Gatorade to the side table as he crawled into the bed, curling around Derek. 

-

Stiles woke up to an empty bed. It was cool to the touch, so Derek had been awake for awhile. He sat up, looking around his loft for any signs of him. He could smell coffee as he made his way over to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup. 

He wasn’t worried, didn’t need to be. Derek would come back, when he was ready. Stiles finished his cup of coffee while checking his email, wondering if Derek remembered their conversation from the day before, about what the plan had been before Peter ruined it. 

Stiles showered, readying himself, cleaning himself in preparation. He took his time, enjoying the prep and feel of his fingers inside of himself. He walked out of the shower dripping wet to find Derek leaning against the bathroom door, clothed, with his arms crossed, his eyes glancing over Stiles’ marked body. Stiles smiled, because Derek’s jeans didn’t hide his erection; Stiles preparing himself got him hard. 

“Morning,” Stiles said as he stepped forward, pecking Derek on the cheek as he moved him out of the way. Stiles forewent a towel, because he knew he wouldn’t need it by the way Derek watched him walk. 

“Morning,” Derek said, clearing his throat. “I-- you were out so I went ahead and started repairing my door.” 

“Already?” Stiles asked, lifting an eyebrow as he walked towards his bed. Derek followed, his gait predatory, the way Stiles wanted it to be. “It’s only eleven, we were out until nearly four.” 

“I don’t need much sleep,” Derek reminded him as he watched Stiles get on the bed, spreading his legs. Stiles watched as Derek’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his fists clenched. “I wasn’t sure if you still wanted--”

“Yes,” Stiles said, his head tilting back, eyes heavily lidded as his mouth fell open. His tongue darted out of his mouth as he watched Derek begin to strip in front of him. 

“Lube?” Derek asked. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, pulling him forward as he licked up into Derek’s mouth, pressing Derek’s fingers against his opening so he could feel the slick lube. Stiles had been generous, bending over the sink after he stepped out of the shower to apply it. Derek moaned as Stiles stroked his hardening cock. 

“Shift for me?” Stiles asked as he laid back on the bed, wrapping his hand around his own cock instead of Derek’s. Derek groaned, his head falling forward, chin against his chest as he let out a breath as if steeling himself. 

“Stiles, I just-- fuck,” Derek said, looking up, his eyes red. “Do you know-- I’ve never fucked anyone as a wolf-- I don’t know how... the logistics. I don’t want to hurt you--”

Stiles sat forward, his thumb brushing across Derek’s cheek as he looked into his eyes. 

“We don’t have to,” Stiles said as he licked his lips. Derek had his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, smoothing them over Stiles’ skin. “It’s the same as any other scene, I’lll tap out-- you have control of your shift, you’ll be fine. But if you want out, just tell me.” 

“No,” Derek said with the shake of his head. “I want you, I want to do this, I just-- it’s going to be overwhelming.” Stiles laughed, agreeing that it would be as he kissed Derek. “God, I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too,” Stiles said as he bit down on Derek’s lip. “And I trust you. I want this, I want you, all of you in any way, shape, or form.” 

Derek’s cheeks reddened as he pressed Stiles down against the bed, crawling on top of him, beginning to lick up the remaining drops of water from the shower. Stiles breathed in and out, blinking as he carded his hands through Derek’s hair. As soon as he did, he felt the shift above him, Derek’s hair turning to fur, the feel of his tongue changing. Stiles’ legs spread as Derek licked lower and lower, his tongue lapping at the precome on Stiles’ stomach, at the head of his cock. Stiles shifted, his hand tentatively trailing over Derek’s cock. It looked completely different now, shifted with him. 

A noise escaped from Derek as he rolled over, allowing Stiles to explore his wolf body. Stiles rubbed up and down Derek’s chest and belly, fingers brushing over his sheathed cock. Derek’s tail thwacked against the bed as Stiles stroked it once, pushing the sheath out of the way, jacking it once then twice as the head appeared. 

Stiles moaned as he panted, leaning over, tasting it, sucking. Derek whined beneath him, giving Stiles incentive to continue on. He jacked himself off as he sucked at Derek’s cock, unable to stop himself as he continued slowly stroking the sheath. Derek rolled back over, getting to his feet when he’d apparently had enough of Stiles’ exploration. He pressed a paw to Stiles’ chest in earnest, burying his snout in Stiles’ armpit, licking him as he began thrusting the air, his cock leaving the sheath slowly, growing bigger and bigger. Stiles turned over, getting to his knees, pressing his cheek into the mattress as Derek mounted him. 

Derek panted as he managed to line his cock put to Stiles’ entrance, thrusting relentlessly. Stiles gasped at the intrusion - Derek burying himself inside him. Derek grunted and panted, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he began fucking Stiles. Stiles pushed back, rolling his hips as he met Derek’s erratic thrusts. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said, shaking beneath him as Derek continued on. He wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking off to the feel of Derek fucking him. He wasn’t far from coming, not only because Derek was fucking him, but because Derek loved him enough, trusted him enough to do this. He trusted Derek, who was so much stronger than him, with his life, with guarding him and keeping him safe. Derek, a wolf, a werewolf, a person. Derek wouldn't hurt him. Stiles only knew pleasure with him, and this was no different. 

As Stiles felt Derek’s knot grow within him, his arms gave out from under him. He let Derek fuck him into the mattress, use him as he reached his own climax, coming inside of Stiles, filling him up as his knot tied them together. Derek’s thrusts slowed as he rode his climax, claws nicking at Stiles’ skin without malice. Stiles moaned as Derek continued thrusting, whimpering as he eventually stopped, licking at Stiles’ back before the change in weight above him, the feel of skin replaced that of fur. Stiles moaned as he felt Derek wrap his arms around him, pulling him onto his side for a more comfortable position. 

Stiles’ limbs felt like jelly as he linked fingers with Derek, pulling his hand up towards his lips, kissing Derek’s knuckles. Derek left feather light kisses across Stiles’ shoulder and neck, his hips gently rocking into him, the knot moving inside him. Stiles moaned, turning his head so they could kiss. Derek’s tongue licked into Stiles’ mouth, muffling another moan as Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, stroking him. Stiles shook, his ass clenching around Derek’s dick as he came. 

“Fuck,” Stiles said, his voice shot. “Fuck, that was intense--” Derek hummed contentedly as he licked his fingers then began running his hands up and down Stiles’ torso and thighs. “How was it for you?” Stiles asked. 

“Perfect,” Derek said. “You’re perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re: dubcon warning: Peter confronts Stiles, but is about to attack Allison and Lydia. To catch Peter's attention, Stiles strips down to his underwear, and Peter makes a lewd comment about marking/claiming Stiles with urine, but nothing happens besides that.


End file.
